Behind Wicked Smiles
by ChocoLoverForever
Summary: The horcrux search is taking longer than expected, the trio have been gone for two years. Voldemort has complete control. Ginny Weasley is captured on a failed mission and as punishment, has been sent to work as Draco Malfoy's own, private, slave.
1. Punishment

_Summary- While the search for the horrocruxes is on, Voldemort has taken over eveything. The trio has been on the search for two years, and many believe Harry Potter has ran away, from fear. Ginny Weasley, now 18 and a member of the Order of the Phoneix, was captured on a failed mission. She was sent to Azkaban, but has now been shipped off to Malfoy Manor, to serve as Draco Malfoy's own private servant._

_A/N- Hello all! This is my new story, and it's very differnet from Les Best, but I do hope you shall enjoy it! I worked very hard on this first chapter, and the second one is already half written! Please give me your feedback, I've never written something like this before! I know the idea's been done, but I'm making it my own, so PLEAE REVIEW your OPINION! _

_Also, I know it says Ginny/Harry, which it will be, but there is going to be plenty Draco as well! So it's more like a Ginny/Draco and Ginny/Harry. _

_XOXOXOXXOXO_

* * *

_**Behind Wicked Smiles**_

_The stone walls that surrounded her were smeared with blood and grime. The large, dark chamber smelled of death._

_Ginny had been here before, she knew the place. It was a place she had forgotten long ago, so, why was she here now?_

_She was afraid, and alone. This place brought back memories she had long tried to shove out of her mind. Here, she was a little girl again, vulnerable and weak, something she had promised herself never to be again._

_The only light in the chamber emitted from the torch she was holding, and its flame was weak. She knew she should turn back and look for a way out, but suddenly she saw that ahead, there seemed to be a very dim green light, which grew with every step she took towards it._

_She was unexplainably drawn to the light, and as she stepped towards it, excitement grew in her. She simply had to get to that light. She broke into a sudden run towards it and didn't even notice when she had dropped her torch. _

_She was almost there and she grinned, the light made her feel safer. She reached out for the small, but now prominent light, that seemed to be floating in front of her. Just as she was about to grasp it in her hand, it disappeared leaving her in complete darkness._

_Ginny stopped in her tracks. The room was suddenly even colder than before, and she felt as if she was being watched. She shivered, and instinctively reached for her wand, but found it wasn't in her robes pocket. Her wand was missing._

_She suddenly stopped her frantic searching, because she had heard something. It had been pretty faint, but it had started to grow louder, and echoed around the room. It sounded like footsteps. _

_Ginny's breath caught in her throat. Here she was, in the place she feared most, wandless and powerless. The darkness was over whelming, and she could not see a thing. She had a feeling she knew who was coming towards her, it only made sense after all, it was He who had brought her here the first time. _

_Him. He had scarred her for life, left a mark on her that could not be removed, a fear that she could not get over. For many months, after it was all over, she would continue to dream of Him, even a small part of her, wished to see Him again. That part disgusted her. As she grew older, the dreams were less frequent, and slowly she became stronger and stopped thinking of it all completely. _

_The last time she had even dreamed of Him again, was on her sixteenth birthday. But that seemed to be so long ago, and she was no longer that girl, but she still knew deep down that she was afraid of Him, and that He had left His mark on her forever. _

_The footsteps grew louder and louder, echoing around the massive chamber. Ginny could hardly breathe, she wanted to run anywhere away from the footsteps. But she couldn't move, her fear had glued her to her spot, and all she could do was wait._

_She closed her eyes, praying that the darkness would hide her and that He would not find her, yet she knew that would not happen. He always found her._

_The footsteps suddenly stopped and Ginny shivered. She opened her eyes not knowing what to expect. Suddenly the chamber filled with light, and inches from her, He stood, a smirk gracing his handsome features._

_Ginny's mouth felt dry, she could hardly breathe. All she could do was stare, stare at the face she had known so well long ago, oh so long ago._

"_Hello Ginny," He spoke softly but his voice was loud and strong, echoing off the walls. His dark eyes were bright, a mischievous and excited twinkle in them._

"_Tom," Ginny whispered, still not fully comprehending the situation. It could not be him it simply could not. He had not changed, still sixteen, still as handsome as ever, still having the effect on her he always did. _

_He nodded, a smirk still plastered on his face. "I have not seen you for a long time, beautiful Ginny. My, how beautiful you are." His hand reached out and gently caressed her cheek. _

_She whimpered slightly at the sudden physical contact. His hands were so warm, and she was so cold in that damp dungeon. She couldn't help but lean in slightly to his touch._

_He grinned knowingly, and with a sudden movement, he had cupped her face and pulled her into a deep kiss. At first Ginny didn't respond, she was still too shocked. After less than a moment though she returned the kiss, and wrapped her hands around his neck. _

_She knew she shouldn't, that it was wrong, but she could not help it. He had this control over her, and as much as she hated it, she loved it at the same time. _

_He deepened the kiss, and slid his tongue into her mouth, and she moaned. She could practically feel him smirking into her mouth, as his hands slid down from her waist, and they dove under her shirt. His warms hands on her stomach made her jump, and she broke the kiss abruptly._

"_No. I can't. I can't." She repeated to herself as she started to back away from him slowly, remembering what he'd done to her._

_He smiled now, but it was a twisted evil smile. "You already have silly girl. You'll always be a silly _little girl _Ginerva. Now come here." As he said this, he had stepped towards her, and every step Ginny took away from him, he countered._

"_Pl-please Tom. Lea-leave me be. Go away. Please." She whimpered, now noticing he had his wand out, and he was twirling it around in his hand. She hated sounding like that. Like a child, begging him. But she was afraid and with him, she could not be strong. She continued backing away from him, looking around for some sort of exit. She knew there was a tunnel that led to the door out, but where was it?_

"_Tsk Tsk, why so afraid love? You seemed keen just a minute ago. You do know I hate it when you stutter, although I love when you beg. Now come _here_ Ginerva." As he said this, with a small swish of his wand, an invisible force pulled her towards him, stopping her centimeters from his face. _

_He grinned again, "That's better." And then he kissed her once more. This time, she could not move, and as he descended from her lips to her neck, she couldn't help but moan, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was enjoying this. He had such power over her, she couldn't explain it. _

_Ginny shivered. _

_And then somehow, she had wound up on the floor, him on top of her, kissing her passionately. Ginny stared at him and he smirked, ducking down and biting her softly on the collarbone. _

_She gasped at the mix of pain and pleasure. Her eyes snapped open suddenly as she realized what she was doing, it was wrong. So wrong. _

_In a quick movement she had not realized she could do, she pushed Tom off her as hard as she could, jumped up and started running as fast as she could, towards the tunnel that would lead her out. She could see it, it wasn't too far and maybe just maybe- BANG._

_She flew in the air, and fell down on to the cold stone floor. She could feel a warm liquid trickling down her cheek, and her whole body ached. She could hear his footsteps coming towards her. _

_Gathering all her remaining strength she scrambled up and started running even faster, not turning to look back. If only she could just reach the- _

"_Crucio!" _

_She heard him shout, and fell to the floor in instant agony. Her whole body was writhing and aching, she couldn't help but scream over and over, begging for release._

_Finally it was lifted, and Ginny lay on the floor, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. This was it. There was no way out. There never really had been._

_He reached her and grabbed her by the hair pulling her into a sitting position. "What made you even think you could escape me you stupid girl." He hissed in her ear making Ginny shiver._

_Mustering all her courage, she slowly turned to look into his eyes, which were now gleaming with malice. _

"_You can't hurt me anymore Tom. I'm not afraid of you." She whispered, and although she wasn't completely truthful, she could not let him overpower her again. No more. _

_His eyes narrowed, "You lie girl. I know all you're deepest fears," He pulled her even closer and whispered, "I know all you're greatest desires. I can see into your soul girl. I know who you are. You and I are more alike than you think Ginny," He hissed, causing another shiver to run down her spine. _

"_I'm nothing like you," she spat, glaring at him as he had moved his head to now look her in the eyes once more. _

_He smirked suddenly and stood up, "How wrong you are. You pretend to be so good, but I know you're true emotions. You long to be powerful, you want control and respect. You want everyone to know your name." He sneered and Ginny narrowed her eyes. _

"_You're wrong," she spat, "I'm nothing like you!" She yelled. Why, oh why did she let his words affect her so? _

"_I don't think I am. I've seen your soul Ginerva Weasley. It's almost as dark as mine." _

_Ginny shook her head, angry tears brimming, "No, no, no, no! I'm not like you! Go away! Stop it!"_

_Tom simply smirked._

"_WEASLEY! GET UP YOU PIECE OF FILTH!"_

_Ginny felt something shake her, hard, and suddenly it all disappeared. The last thing she saw before opening her eyes was Tom Riddle's smirking face._

Pain wasn't new to Ginny Weasley.

That's why her now aching ribs hardly fazed her. Had someone just kicked her?

She opened her eyes slowly. A large shadow was looming above her, and although she could not see the face, she was sure it was twisted into a look of utter disgust.

The room was still as dim as always. It stank, and the air was so cold that Ginny had permanent goose bumps. Or maybe these were because of her dream? It had been extremely disturbing. She seemed to been having a lot of these dreams ever since she was brought here, maybe it reminded her of the Chamber?

She however did not have the time to ponder this. The shadow that had woken her, grabbed her roughly by the arm, and dragged her up to a standing position.

Standing was bad. It was so much harder than lying on the floor, even if it was a hard stone floor, with nothing but straw to cover it. Still, it was harder. Every inch of her body ached. Her legs were barely able to support her weight, and it was only because of the man's firm grip on her arm, she was able to stand.

She looked to his face. He wore a mask. Of course he did. A death eater guard always wore a mask.

His mouth, the only part that was visible under the hideous skull mask, twisted into a sneer. "What were you dreaming about blood traitor? Must have been pretty awful eh? You were screaming. Although, maybe you like to scream? I'd love to have you screaming under me at anytime." He laughed at his supposed wit.

Ginny smiled lightly, "No thanks. We don't get much to eat around here, and I'd really love to keep my food down."

In a violent move, he turned her to face him, and he was inches from her face. "Watch it Weasley. If I weren't taking you to have that sarcasm tortured out of you right now, you'd be bleeding on this floor. Filth." He spat, an inch from her bare toes.

Ginny shivered.

So, it was going to be one of those days again. A day of pure torture. She wouldn't be fed, and they would be testing new hexes and curses on her. Lovely.

The guard grinned. "Not so tough now are you lass," He whispered cruelly and chuckled, as he half led, half dragged Ginny out of her cell, down the long dark halls, and finally, they arrived in front of a large wooden door.

This was it. This room had been her biggest fear for the past month. Had it really been just a month? Ginny wasn't sure anymore, but she had tried to calculate as best as she could, without having any actual way to know the passing of time.

Yes, it had to be about a month. She couldn't believe that just that December she had been back home, at the Burrow, with her family. Well, not all of them naturally. Charlie was still in Romania, or was he back, helping the Order? And Percy was still gone, but really, she hadn't thought of him as family for so long. And then of course, there was Ron.

He had gone with Harry and Hermione, on some top secret mission Dumbledore had left the three of them. They had been gone for two years now. They had only been able to contact the Weasley's once, a year ago. No word since. Ginny knew that they were alive though.

If Harry Potter were dead, surely, there wouldn't be a single witch or wizard in Britain who wouldn't know. Voldemort had taken over, completely. And Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all high on the 'most wanted' list. Ginny missed them terribly, but she was glad that none of them were sharing the same fate as she.

They had captured her, about a month ago. She was immediately sent to Azkaban, to the top security ward. She was after all, an Order member.

Her lip twitched at the memory, of how much she had battled her mother to agree upon that matter, joining the order. But the moment Ginny had turned seventeen, her mother had no say in the matter, so she joined anyway, of course.

Ginny took a deep breath, as the pain swelled in her heart. She missed her mother so much. And her father, and Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Ron, Hermione, Harry…She missed him so incredibly much, the pain was worse than any physical torture.

While she pondered these things, the guard tapped twice on the door with his wand, and it opened slowly. He led Ginny into the large, circular room. The torture room.

It was full of devices, meant to physically torture the victim, in unimaginable ways. They were hardly used though, seeing as most of the death eaters preferred the use of their own wands. Ginny thought the devices were most likely meant for show, to frighten the prisoner.

Well, it worked.

The guard shoved Ginny harshly to the middle of the room, making her stumble and fall on to her knees, hard. She winced in pain. Her knees were already bruised enough, but then again, she didn't think there was an inch of her body that wasn't.

Ginny kept her gaze on the dirty stone floor. There was dried blood, mud, and plenty of grime to look at. It was better than to see her torturer's face.

"You may go know Ford, I shall deal with this one on my one." The voice was cold, icy even, and had a bored drawl to it. Ginny would recognize it anywhere, and she froze.

What on earth was _he _doing here? Surely, he had better things to do than torture prisoners?

She heard the door close sharply, and light footsteps come towards her, along with a tapping of a cane on the stone floor.

She stared at his dragon hide boots for a moment.

"Lucius Malfoy. To what do I owe the pleasure?" She could practically taste the sarcasm on her tongue.

Lucius Malfoy was the one who had made her life living hell, and he had been responsible for countless deaths. He was the reason for Voldemort's rise to power, he was the reason Kingsley was dead, and he was the one who gave her the diary. It was because of him, she was scarred for life. She possibly hated this man more than Voldemort himself.

All right, no. But they were pretty damn close.

"Tsk tsk," He tutted, and lifted her chin with his cane, his cold eyes meeting her dark ones, "Where are you're manners Weasley? Possibly, they were never there to begin with, being bred in a house of filthy blood traitors. Shame really, that such a pure line has gotten so incredibly… dirty." He sneered cruelly.

Ginny scowled, and stared right back into his ice grey eyes defiantly. She bit back her retort. It would only result in worse torture, and with Lucius being the one to do it, she was sure it wasn't going to be very pleasant either way.

He smirked, "No cunning remark? Hmm… maybe you can be taught after all. Get up Weasley, I want to have a look at you."

Ginny fought every impulse she had to spit on his boots. She was used to being treated this way, by the guards, leering at her as if she was a piece of meat, and they were very hungry carnivores. But from him, Lucius Malfoy, it was even more disgusting.

For once in the time spent here, she feared for something other than physical injuries. Would Lucius really rape her? She didn't think he would. The guards weren't allowed. They had strict orders. They could torture, as much as they pleased, but they were not allowed to rape anyone. Why would they, all prisoners were "filthy blood traitors" weren't they? Bloody prats.

But this was not a simple guard. It was Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's right hand man. He could do pretty much whatever he bleeding well pleased.

Ginny didn't comply. She continued to look down at his overly expensive boots. Suddenly, she was lifted off her feet, and levitated into the air.

Lucius circled her slowly. "You will do what I say Weasley, and from now on, when I address you, you will answer and obey, and call me sir."

Oh, if only she had her wand! She would bat-bogey his albino arse into oblivion! Instead she settled for glaring daggers at him.

"I believe," He drawled, coming to face her again, "that I told you to answer when I address you."

"I believe," She drawled in return, "that you can got to hell you bloody git. Oh, and don't forget to say hello to your master for me when you get there, Sir." She added with a cheeky smile.

Lucius glared, "Insolent girl. You think so highly of yourself don't you? Crucio!" He yelled.

Pain.

Waves of it crashed against Ginny, and she feel the hate layered deep within them. She thrashed, and twitched violently, but she would not utter out a scream. She wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction.

It stopped, and Ginny fell from the air and crashed on to her knees once more. She let out a yelp. Bloody hell.

A few more footsteps, and he was above her again, his cane pulling her chin up once more. His eyes held a deep loathing.

"Do you know why I am here Weasley?" He whispered icily, his eyes gathering a storm.

She was too tired to retort. She was too tired to be cheeky. A month of extreme torture, under nourishment, and barely sleeping had taken its toll. Lucius's curse had taken whatever energy she had left.

She simply shook her head.

Lucius sneered. Or was that look simply itched permanently upon his face? "I am here," He began circling her once more, "because _you _are a thorn in the Dark Lord's side. You have been here for a mere month, but in that space of time, you have been tortured possibly more than any prisoner. Do you want to know why that is _Ginerva_?"

Ginny didn't answer. She was trying to make sense of his words. Where they going to kill her? She had after all never given in to their 'interrogations'. Never once had she let slip any information about the Order, or Harry, or anything of importance. She would never betray them like that. Besides, she didn't know any confidential information.

Harry's mission was a complete secret. No one but Hermione and Ron knew what it was, and they were right there with him. She wasn't high in the Order ranks. She was 'too young', supposedly. She really didn't have much information to give, besides headquarters, and she could never reveal that. She wasn't secret keeper. Nor would she willingly.

There was base, or better known as 'Ash', where the new recruits were trained, and then there was 'Phoenix', where the Order members of lower levels lived, trained, and were briefed on missions to be completed. Finally, there was 'Fawkes', the main headquarters, where only the highest level Order members resided. They were in command. You followed their orders. Its location was top secret to anyone who didn't reside there.

Almost every one of Ginny's family members belonged in 'Fawkes', except her. It had always irked her, but she was moving up the ladder quickly, and she knew that with enough experience she would be welcomed there with open arms.

It was Lucius's slap that jerked her out of her thoughts. It stung, and automatically brought tears to her eyes. She immediately blinked them away.

"I asked you a question," He hissed, "and when I do, you shall reply!"

Ginny glared at him slightly, but nodded. She was too weak to argue at this point. All she wanted was to go back to her cell and be left alone. Lucius had brought back memories she had been trying to suppress, and they hurt too much. She knew there was very little chance of her seeing her family ever again. Or her friends. Or Harry. And thinking of them, and the Order, and how she had let them down by being captured, just ached more than any physical injury possible.

Lucius regained his composure, but his eyes still held a deep loathing. "As I was saying Weasley, you are a known Order member, as are most of you're filthy family, and when you were captured, we had believed you held valuable information. Apparently, we were mistaken," He sneered and Ginny's lip twitched slightly, for at least she had done something right. Pissing off death eaters and Voldemort was a definite plus.

"Even if I had information Malfoy," she whispered, "what makes you gits believe I would ever tell you?"

Lucius did not answer. He pointed his wand at her, and she had barely heard him utter the curse before the pain hit her.

This was much worse than the first. Much, much worse.

Every nerve was on fire, burning and screaming. She was being torn apart, burned from the inside, stabbed by a thousand knives at once, and pounded on by brute fists. All of her muscles tensed and clenched and every bone felt as if it were breaking a million times. All she knew was the pain. She knew nothing, she was nothing. Ginny had no name, no friends, no memories, and no grasp on anything but the awful pain. She screamed and writhed on the floor, begging silently for it to stop, though the words could not leave her lips.

Finally, after what seemed like decades, it stopped.

When she slowly opened her eyes, Lucius's cold grey orbs were above her. He had a smug smirk on his lips. "That curse, is one of the Dark Lord's own design. Much worse than the Cruciatus don't you think? You've just had the privilege of being the first human I've ever tried it on. Could you describe the feeling? The Dark Lord would certainly be pleased to know." He chuckled and nudged Ginny with his boot.

Ginny could not answer. She could not move. Her body ached with the aftermath of the curse.

"Now that you've finally shut your mouth, I shall finish my explanation as to why I am in your filthy blood traitor presence." Lucius continued as he circled her still, and crumpled form. "As it seems that you have no useful information, we have no use for you. Most people in you're position would be killed," He paused thoughtfully.

"Alas, that is not you're fate. Yet. You are wasting needed space here in Azkaban, and we obviously can't simply let you go. We consulted with the Dark Lord, and he has decided to spare you, for now. But you see, we had to arrange something for you, and then, a wonderful idea came up. You see, my son Draco, is very unsatisfied with his house elf, and we both agree that a human may suit his needs better. So you see, you'll be transported to my home, where you shall serve my son, in _every_ aspect of his choosing. You shall be his own private _slave_. And, you shall also serve as wonderful bait to the _great_," he smirked, "Harry Potter. Although, seeing as he left the Wizarding World, like the coward he is, he probably doesn't give a damn. Either way, we win."

Ginny wanted to scream. She wanted to yell. To protest. To defend Harry. She could not. Everything hurt, and she could barely keep her eyes open. She could not speak, for fear of more pain.

The last thing she saw before the darkness, were those cold, malicious eyes.

* * *

Ginny blinked at the bright light.

After being in the constant darkness for a month, the light wasn't very kind to her eyes. She blinked a few times before her eyes adjusted. She eyed her surroundings slowly, taking it all in.

The room was bright, but it had no windows. The walls were cream colored, and the tiles were white. There was a sink, a toilet, and a door. It was warm here.

Ginny looked down. She was in a tub, filled to the brim with warm water. It was a small tub, but she had not been able to bathe in Azkaban, so this was definitely an improvement. But wait. Where on earth was she? Her head pounded. Her body ached. She could hardly remember what had happened to her.

She was clearly not in Azkaban anymore, so where was she? She struggled to recall the previous days events. She remembered waking up from a horrible dream, being dragged to another torture session, and then everything was fuzzy. She focused on remembering.

Dragon hide boots. A cane tapping. And those cold piercing eyes.

With a jolt, the memories came flooding back. She had been tortured, with the most horrible pain she had ever felt. She had been told that she would be a slave, for Draco Malfoy. She would be used as bait to lure Harry Potter.

Ginny panicked. She jumped out of the tub, and ran to the door. She tried to open it, it was locked. She shouted and pounded on the door.

She screamed in rage.

She yelled in anger.

She cursed in frustration.

It was useless. She might as well have been inside a giant bubble. It seemed no one heard her screams, and if they did, they were to ignore them.

Ginny slid down the door, and clutched her knees to her chest. Ginny cried.

Ginny had not cried since Harry left. She had stayed strong, never letting her guard down. Never letting her vulnerability show. Now, she felt all hope was lost.

She might as well would have stayed in Azkaban. At least there, she would not have to see the man who led Albus Dumbledore to death each day. At least there, she could not humiliate her family.

Who knew what they would force her to do here? If the Weasley's ever knew that Ginny would be here, doing the biddings of the Malfoy's, could they ever forgive her? Could she forgive herself?

And how, how could she remain here knowing that if word got out, Harry would surely come, and they would be ready for him. And Ron would come. And Hermione. How could she let herself get into this situation?

Simple. Ginny had gotten caught. A mission gone wrong. It was all her own fault, and now she was suffering for it. If only she had kept her temper!

It had been a rescue mission. Simple really, for the kidnappers were a group of snatchers, who had captured a young muggle born witch. Snatchers were fairly easy to deal with. They were not very smart, and were too hasty in their decisions.

Ginny was in a group of five 'Phoenixes', and the object was simple enough. Get in, grab the girl, and get out. They had managed to enter the old deserted building, which the snatchers were occupying, without problems.

The witch, looked to be about fourteen, was tied up on a chair in the middle of the dark, smelly room. The group of snatchers, they were about six men, were debating what to do with her. Some suggested to go straight to the ministry. Some suggested killing her first. Then one of them suggested having 'some _more _fun' with her first. They had all agreed.

Normally, Ginny would have used stealth to take them down. Normally, she would have made it quick, and quiet. This time, she had snapped. Maybe it had been the frightened look in the girl's eyes. Maybe it had to do with the sick layer of lust in the men's voices. Maybe she was simply tired and wanted it done with.

Ginny wasn't sure why she had lost control, but she now regretted it, deeply. Without thinking, she had run out of her hiding spot, charging at the six men. She shot spells in every direction, letting her rage guide her. Always a mistake.

She had managed to quickly take down two of the men, but then she was cornered. Her team came to her rescue of course, but it appeared that now with the remaining snatchers aware of the situation, they were skilled.

Hexes flew in every direction, lights flashing all around the room. Luckily, one of her group members, Collin Creevy, had managed to free the young witch in all the confusion and take her to safety.

Ginny was dueling fiercely with a rather large, but extremely skilled snatcher. Suddenly, she saw a green light flash, and one of her comrades' fall. It was Julia Gressling, one of Ginny's dearest friends. In the moment of shock, before Ginny could even realize what had just happened, she was hit in the back with a curse. She instantly had lost consciousness.

When she woke, she was in a cell. The snatchers had recognized her, and she had been sent straight to Azkaban. It was the hardest in the beginning. Adjusting. Ginny was not used to being hungry. She was not used to sleeping when all around you there were cries and yells of pain, suffering.

Ginny suffered too. She stayed as strong as she could. The worst part was not knowing what had happened to her group, and knowing that it was all her fault. Eventually she found out that other than Julia, and herself, her group remained unscathed.

The snatcher had managed to grab Ginny and apparate the minute the curse had taken affect, and he was gone without a trace. Once word had gotten out that she was in Azkaban, the Order knew that trying to free her was suicide. She was deemed a lost cause. Ginny had accepted this. It was her own fault, and although she knew it must be extremely difficult for her family, they would have to cope.

Escaping Azkaban was impossible. Out of the question. The dementors had been released from their 'guarding duties', but hundreds of death eaters were now guarding the prison. Every possible spell to insure maximum 'security' was placed upon the island. No one could get in, or out, without clearance.

But maybe… maybe now. She was out of Azkaban, her chances of escaping had already escalated. But, she was wandless, and at Malfoy Manor. Surely security here would be extremely high as well, especially for her.

Yet, Ginny was determined. She would escape. She wasn't sure how, or how long it would take. But she would do _everything_ in her power to leave this place, even if it meant she would die trying. She knew it sounded melodramatic, but it was the truth.

She could never live with herself, knowing she hadn't done all she could to escape this fate. To deny the Malfoy's the smug smirks of satisfaction. To show her family she was still fighting.

With her mind made up, Ginny stood, and returned to the tub, which was miraculously still warm. Must be a charm. She would enjoy this while she could. She was sure that this would be as good as treatment as she would get here in Malfoy manor, and this was probably an exception. She knew she would be treated like dirt. She expected it. She was preparing herself for it. But she would fight back in every way she could. She would not let them break her.

A knock on the door shook her from her thoughts. It opened, and a small house elf stepped in, hesitantly.

It's huge eyes locked on Ginny for a second, before they lowered back to the floor. "Hello Miss. My name is Twinkie, miss. Master Malfoy told me to get you ready." Twinkie spoke so softly, that Ginny had hardly heard her.

Ginny wanted to tell the house elf to leave her alone. But she felt sorry for this creature. None of this was her fault. Besides, if she wouldn't comply, the creature would suffer because of her. Ginny sighed, and nodded.

Twinkie snapped her fingers, and instantly, the tub was surrounded by dozens of potions. Ginny closed her eyes in agitation. It was obvious she was going to be plucked, primped, and scrubbed with in an inch of her life. She had to look _presentable_ to Draco Malfoy after all.

This would possibly be the worst torture yet.

"May I ask, to what is it you are preparing me for?" Ginny said quietly, as Twinkie began massaging Ginny's scalp with a pink potion.

"For training miss. I shall be teaching you everything you will need to know miss."

Ginny huffed.

"You will also be meeting young Master Malfoy today miss. You must please him greatly miss. You will serve to please him." Twinkie explained, in an obvious tone.

Ginny's ears perked up. So, she would be meeting the great ferret himself today. Good. She hoped he would be scandalized. Oh, she would please him all right.

Please his albino arse into hell.

For the next few hours, Ginny had been indeed plucked, cleansed, scrubbed, and filed in every possible way. It had taken longer than she had expected, but she hadn't had any options for good hygiene at Azkaban, and even while she had been working for the Order, she didn't have much time to focus on her looks. Nor did she really care.

Looks didn't matter to Ginny. Sure, she knew what it felt like to wear a pretty dress and feel important, she knew how a little bit of make up could transform a face. Before the war, before Voldemort had taken control, before she had joined the fight, she had cared.

She was a teenager then after all. She cared about the way she looked, about as much as any other witch did. But Ginny had never needed much make up, or potions. She had always been pretty, some even might say beautiful. She generally liked the way she looked. Before the war though, she would take the time to gussy in front of a mirror, and worry about her hair, or her weight, or acne.

But the war had changed everything. It made children grow up much sooner than they should have. It had made her grow up. She joined the fight the moment she could, and had never regretted it.

After living at 'Ash', where she had barely time to eat or sleep from all the training, she had forgotten completely about worrying about her outer appearance, sometimes, she would go weeks before coming across a mirror.

Wow. As she thought of it now, she could not remember the last time she had seen a mirror. Definitely over a month, there were no mirrors in Azkaban. Even at 'Phoenix', her home, she could not remember the last time she had seen her reflection.

Curiosity took hold of Ginny. She was currently still in the small bathroom she had woken in. She noticed there were no mirrors here. She also noticed that she was still unclothed. Twinkie was combing her hair.

Ginny cleared her throat lightly, "Twinkie," she started hesitantly, "when do I get clothes?" Better to start with the easy questions first.

Ginny knew it probably wasn't too much to ask, to see her appearance, but honestly, she was nervous. What if all those months of training, missions, and especially Azkaban, had taken their toll? What if she was hideous?

She knew she shouldn't care much. She didn't really care about the way she saw herself, but a thought she could not help had appeared. What if she did escape, and she would see Harry again. If she were indeed hideous, would he still want her? And would he want her at all, after the war? If they both even lived by the end of the war. If there ever would be an end to the war.

Doubts and wonderings and dark thoughts began to arise in Ginny. She had practically forgotten she had asked the elf a question before it was answered.

"Miss-"

"Ginny," Ginny corrected the elf, for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

"Ginny, your clothing are in your bedroom. I shall take you there now." The elf squeaked and started toward the door.

"Wait!" Ginny cried, "I am supposed to go out like this? Nude?"

The elf shook her head, "No, no Miss Ginny, your room is right here, through this door. See?"

Ginny walked timidly to peek through the threshold. Indeed, beyond the door was a small bedroom. Smaller even than the one she had at the Burrow, but a definite improvement from Azkaban.

There was a cot in one corner, by a small window. Across from it was a trunk, which she guessed, held her clothing. Another corner of the room held a door, and on the wall beside it was a small mirror.

Ginny felt anxious. This was her new prison. It might be grander than her cell, but it would surely be much worse here, serving the Malfoy's every beck and call.

Twinkie had already trotted to the trunk, and opened it. Ginny followed slowly behind. The little elf removed a few objects, and snapped her fingers. Before she had even realized it, Ginny was dressed.

She looked down. She dearly wanted to vomit. She was dressed in a French maid, muggle styled, dress. Apron, lace, frills and all. This was simply too cruel. Even for death eaters. She should have expected this. She kicked herself for not expecting something as humiliating. And not only was the outfit completely degrading, the dress was extremely short! It barely reached her mid thigh! Ginny fought the bile threatening to rise.

Twinkie smiled encouragingly at her. Ginny wanted to kick her.

"Don't you look lovely Miss Ginny? This is your working clothes. You have some night clothes in the trunk Miss, but it is orders that whenever you leave your rooms Miss, that you wear your work clothes. I must go now Miss. I shall be back soon to bring you to young Master Malfoy." With those words, and a loud pop, Twinkie was gone, leaving Ginny to wallow in her misery alone.

Timidly, Ginny made her way to the small mirror by the door. She stood in front of it with closed eyes. She was sure she would not like what she saw.

She opened them slowly.

Bloody hell, was this really her?

Her long red mane was unchanged, still straight down to her waist, but it seemed silkier, shinier even, that was probably thanks to potions though. Her skin was paler than she had remembered. Her face was thinner too. It made her seem older somehow. But, she could not acknowledge that this creature was her. She stared at her eyes. Yes, they definitely held the deepest change.

They had always been a warm chocolate brown. She had always liked her eyes. They always seemed to sparkle somehow, to hold warmth. They were different now. They were the same shade. But they were cold. They held no warmth. No sparkle. They were hollow.

Her eyes traveled down to gaze at her 'work clothes'. They were even worse than she thought. The dress had a built in corset, which made her cleavage highly noticeable, much more than she liked. And her waist, seemed so tiny! Had she really lost that much weight, or was it simply the corset? No, she had lost a lot of weight. Far too much.

Ginny wanted to cry, but no tears would come. No. Now was not the time to cry. Now was the time to think. She would have to be sneaky, cunning, deceiving. She would have to act like a true Slytherin, but she was here, in company of the biggest Slytherins she knew. Surely she could pick up a few things.

Ginny stared at her reflection. She hated the girl standing before her. The war had sucked out all the life out of her. She was not happy, go lucky Ginny. She hadn't really been for a while. But now, she realized exactly how much had changed.

Well, she'd be damned if she wasn't going to try and fix it.

Twinkie reappeared in the room, with a loud crack. The elf nodded at Ginny. "It is time. Follow me Miss."

Ginny followed the elf out the room silently. Now was not the time to lash out. To show her rage. No. Now was the time to be quiet, and to asses the situation. She would memorize this Manor. Every hall, every door, every passage, every stairwell. Ginny had a good memory. She could do this.

After a few minutes, the small elf stopped suddenly. Ginny had been so focused on memorizing every step she took she had not noticed they had come to a stop. She bumped into the small elf, and lost her footing for a moment.

Ginny straightened back up. They were in front of a set of large oak doors. She took a deep breath. She could do this.

The elf knocked three times, and the door swung open slowly. Ginny lifted her chin, and walked in, eyes high, a smile on her lips. They would not break her.

"Weasley. I see you have taken to your outfit well."

Ginny's smile widened. "Yes thank you Malfoy. This little get up is quite fetching isn't it?"

Draco Malfoy's smirk did not falter. "Yes, I do believe it is."

* * *

_A/N- I really hope you enjoyed! PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! I need feedback for this story! I've worked very hard (: _

_XOXOXOXOX- Lily_


	2. Control

**_A/N- All right! Here it is, part two! First, I would like to clear all confusion about the pairings in this story! This is a _Ginny/Draco _story, all the way through! What I meant in the last chapter was that in the begining of this story, Ginny would still be in love with Harry, but that will change, I promise! Another thing, Draco is mean. So don't complain! At least at first, but there are reasons for that. Besides, don't we all like bad boys at times? (: _**

**_Anyhow, I have finished chapter two, and I do hope you shall enjoy! PLEASE REVIEW, I need the feedback... ENJOY -_**

* * *

Draco Malfoy liked control.

He liked power.

He liked being superior.

He liked being intimidating.

He loved being feared.

He loathed when he wasn't.

When Lucius Malfoy had announced Draco was getting his own personal slave, Draco was thrilled. He hated house elves with a passion. He could not explain this hatred of the small creatures, but it was uncontrollable.

A human would suit his needs much better.

No, not those needs. He could satisfy them whenever he pleased. He had never had trouble with women he wanted. They would practically get on their knees and beg for his attention at times. But other needs, simple duties, a human slave would suit him well.

His father had not told him at first, the identity of the slave. Draco had only known it was a woman, that she was a year his junior and she was a captured Order of the Phoenix member. Draco wondered fleetingly if he knew this young woman. If she had gone to Hogwarts as well? Had he once seen her walking down a corridor? At the Great Hall? During the Yule Ball?

He even pitied her for a moment. Surely, this was not her desired fate. She would never see her family again, her friends… She would never see freedom. She would never have the chance to get a job. Marry. Have children.

Then the pity turned to contempt. Why did he pity this woman? She was an Order member! A traitor! She deserved everything she got! He would not show her any kindness. No mercy. He was a Malfoy after all, and kindness and mercy weren't exactly family traits.

A day before she was to be brought to the Manor, her identity was revealed. Ginerva Weasley! A Weasley! In his home! His slave! Draco had been livid.

Then he realized what this meant. The Weasley girl, Ginerva, was at _his _mercy! It was just too good to be true. Total humiliation for her, and for her filthy family! Perfect bait for St. Potter, Weaslebee and the Mudblood! Oh, this was just too good.

He was going to make her life hell. Pure hell.

He had sat in his bedroom that day, on his favorite armchair by the fireplace, remembering the youngest Weasley. Her first year at Hogwarts, she was small, timid, shy. Unremarkable in any way. But she was remarkable that year. She had survived the cursed diary. The cursed diary his father had given her.

Of course, Harry Potter had been the one who actually saved her, but that was just details. The fact that she survived was quite a feat in itself.

She had started to change after that year Not much. Not very noticeable yet. But Draco had noticed. Ever since he had learned it was his fathers doing, the diary, Draco had started to notice the small Weasley survivor.

Slowly, as the years passed, she had changed. A lot. First and foremost, she had stopped trailing Harry Potter like a lost puppy. She had grown, and nicely too, although Draco would never admit it. She had started to date, and Draco noticed this too. She had become lively, fiery, and very much noticeable. She was no longer a shy young girl.

Draco had never actually spoken to her, aside from a few insults here and there. He would never associate himself with her blood traitor self. But he would see her.

And then, during his sixth year, the year when it had all changed, she was back in Potter's arms! Hah, now wasn't that hideously predictable?

That had been a hard year for Draco. His first mission. His hardest mission. He stopped reminiscing then. He did not want to ponder on that year anymore. Instead, he thought of ways to torture Ginerva Weasley. There were certainly plenty.

He would make her regret living. Slowly, he would break her. His new, personal mission. Draco would not fail.

The next day, the Weasley had arrived, unconscious. Draco silently cursed his father. Draco had wanted to make her first steps inside the Manor… memorable. No matter. Plenty of time for that later. He decided he would not see her until she was cleaned. He had ordered his house elf, Twinkie, to take care of primping, cleansing, and gussying Ginerva Weasley.

He wanted her to look her best after all. She had to match the _lovely _uniform he had personally chosen. He knew it would humiliate her to no end. Surely, he would raise a reaction out of her, that could lead to torture. He would break her in every way. Starting from the clothes on her back.

He had waited in his rooms patiently. Inside, he was pleased with himself. He felt like a genius. Outwardly, he appeared bored. Deeply uninterested in the events about to occur. Draco was a master at concealing his emotions. He had been training his whole life.

A knock on his door, and with a flick of his wand, the doors opened gently. He smirked at the sight of her. Perfect.

He had to admit to himself, that she looked… sexy. There was no denying that Ginerva Weasley was beautiful, but of course, he would never admit to this out loud.

Yet, he was surprised to see her walk in with a confidence he was sure she would not have. She even smiled at him! Draco grew frustrated at her grin, but of course, his smirk did not drop for a second.

"Weasley. I see you have taken to your outfit well." He said coolly, hoping the taunt would gauge some angry reaction.

"Yes thank you Malfoy. This little get up is quite fetching isn't it?" She replied so simply, with that smile, that he simply wanted to throw something in her face.

"Yes, I do believe it is." He answered, smirking still.

So, the Weasley was smarter than he gave her credit for. This was now turning into a battle of wits. No matter. He was a cunning Slytherin. Every move was carefully calculated. She was a Gryffindor, known for rash judgments, and her temper was famous. Surely, he would win.

Draco was furious. This girl did not show fear as he had expected. She did not show intimidation. She showed defiance and fire.

Well, he would extinguish that fire, soon.

They studied each other in silence, each waiting for the other to make the first move. A game of real live wizard's chess, each opponent waiting for the other to make a fatal mistake.

They had both dropped their expressions of fake enthusiasm, and smugness. Ginny knew she had shaken him. He had not expected her to act with such gusto. He had probably expected a broken mess of a girl, bawling her eyes out.

Hah. Well she had shown him. Although his smirk had been convincing, and it had not faltered for a second, the quick blink of surprise had given him away. It had lasted for barely a second, but Ginny had caught it.

Another second of silence. "Sit," he finally ordered, his voice cutting, sharp.

Ginny made the smallest movement toward one of the comfortable looking armchairs before quickly stopping. She immediately knew she had made a mistake. She cursed herself silently. She had given Draco an opening, and surely he would make his move.

He did. He laughed. It was cruel, cold, full of contempt. Ginny flinched slightly at the harsh sound.

"Surely Weasley, you did not think you would be sitting in my chair, like an equal." He spat, his eyes cold, like his fathers.

Ginny did not reply. She would not make a mistake like that again. She simply sat on the floor, cross legged, giving him a show of her knickers. She didn't care.

Draco scoffed. "Nice knickers Weasley." He smirked.

Ginny grinned brightly, knowing it might not reach her eyes, but it would piss him off nonetheless. "Aren't they? I must say Malfoy, your choices in lingerie are rather successful."

Draco grinned cockily. "Yes. I've been told."

"I am sure you have," Ginny replied, albeit truthfully. She had to admit, Draco Malfoy could surely have any woman he wanted. He was gorgeous. No point in denying. But to her, he would always remain a cold hearted, smug, albino ferret, bouncing around the corridors of Hogwarts. Her lips twitched at the memory.

Draco's grin dropped. His gaze turned serious, and he trained his eyes on her face, taking care not to let them travel down to the black lingerie showing.

"Right then Weasley. You obviously know why you're here. I'm not going to waste my time in your filthy presence any longer. Get to work." Without another word, he turned on his heel and left the room, leaving Ginny on the floor, clueless, as to what tasks were expected of her.

Ginny wanted to chase him down and punch him in his smirking mouth. Stupid git! Firstly, he was obviously dreaming if he thought she was going to lift a finger for him. Second, even if she was going to do any tasks, he hadn't told her what to do! Or how to do them without any supplies.

As she sat on the plush carpet of Draco Malfoy's enormous rooms, she calculated her options. On one hand, she dearly wanted to do something to anger the great ferret. But that would certainly cost in punishment, and she wasn't sure it was her best option yet. Oh, she would make his life as horrible as possible, surely, but doing it an obvious way, wasn't very smart in her current situation.

Yet, if she set to work, now, without knowing what tasks are to be done, trying to please the albino arse of Draco Malfoy, he would feel superior, that he could control her.

The idea came so suddenly, she did not understand how she had not thought of it before.

"Twinkie!" She called, and with a pop, the small elf was there.

"Yes Miss Ginny," the elf replied and Ginny smiled.

"Could you show me where the cleaning supplies is, and some paint, possibly?" Ginny asked sweetly, innocently.

The elf nodded, and was gone with a pop. A second later she returned with a loud crack, cleaning supplies beside her, and a can of magical paint, set to change to whatever color was commanded of it.

Ginny grinned. Oh, this was simply _too_ good.

* * *

Four hours, three cans of paint, and dozens of Twinkie's lovely charms later, Ginny dusted herself off and stared at her handy work.

Draco Malfoy's rooms were transformed.

The walls were now a bright pink, contrasting harshly with the now shocking orange furniture. The room was spotless, filled with colorful paintings of flowers, fairies, and even muggle posters of princesses.

Ginny had to hand it too herself, her plans were a success. She had to mostly thank Twinkie, who Ginny had assured that this was the way 'Master Malfoy' had wanted his rooms to be transformed into. She felt guilty for tricking the elf, but she planned on putting the blame entirely on herself. The elf would not suffer because of Ginny. She would deny anything that could hold the elf responsible.

Now, all she had to do was wait. She didn't know how Malfoy would react, but she knew he would be pissed. That, was the point of this whole operation. He would rue the day he had ever laughed at her. Self- centered bastard.

It appeared she did not have to wait long, as she heard Draco's deep voice outside the door. She quickly took her seat on the now orange carpet. Another, familiar, voice accompanied Draco. Ginny could not place it. It seemed she would see in a moment.

The doors sprang open and Draco sauntered in, laughing, and behind him, followed the tall, dark form of Blaise Zabini. Well, it didn't surprise her these two were still best mates.

She stared giddily at Draco's face as he took in the change. Shock. Disbelief. Anger. Realization. Stone. His face turned slowly to her, his expression blank. Blaise let out a low whistle behind him.

"What. Did. You. Do?" He asked slowly, barely managing the words.

Ginny grinned cheekily. "Like it Malfoy? I personally think it fits you like a charm!"

His eyes hardened. They gathered a storm. Before Ginny could blink, he had his wand out, and she was lifted in the air.

"I'll be back in a moment Blaise." Draco spat, and he walked swiftly to his adjoining bathroom, Ginny floating behind him. She was facing Blaise, who shook his head, in what seemed to be, what was it, pity? Ginny gulped. Maybe this hadn't been to wise after all. But she would not let Draco see her fear.

The bathroom door slammed behind them, and Ginny was dropped onto the hard tiles. Ouch.

Draco muttered a quick silencing spell on the door, and turned to her. His eyes were pure ice.

"What the bloody hell do you think you were doing you filth?" He shouted, his face flushing.

Ginny stared at him simply, praying the fear she felt did not show in her eyes. "Well, you told me to get to work, and I had no clue what I was supposed to do. I started to clean your rooms. Then I decided it might be nice to make them more… lively."

Draco stared at her for a moment. "Crucio," He whispered, so quietly, Ginny had barely heard.

It hurt. Bloody hell it hurt. Especially after being so weakened the previous day by Lucius's curse. It stopped quickly. Ginny had not screamed. She had not uttered a single sound. But she was curled on the ground, twitching slightly.

"Listen Weasley, and listen very closely! You. Are. Mine! My slave, servant, whatever you want to call it! You will do as I say, and you will stop with you're bloody cheek! I will not hesitate to hurt you, do you understand?" He yelled so loudly, Ginny wanted to cover her ears.

She did not reply. Suddenly, he pulled her up by her hair. She gasped in pain, and taken aback, Draco dropped his hand.

He kicked her in the shin, "You disgust me." He spat. "You have half an hour to restore my room, and if you pull anything again, I swear Ginerva Weasley, you will be begging for death by the time I'm done with you."

With a swish of his cloak, he was out the door, closing it loudly behind him.

Ginny stared at the door.

She was surprised, although she knew she shouldn't be. She knew Draco Malfoy was a bastard, cold, mean, cruel. But for some reason, she had not thought he would react so harshly. She had underestimated him. His smirks and grins and taunts had fooled her. He could be just as wicked as his father. Possibly more.

She took a shaky breath. Slowly, she helped herself up, and walked slowly to his rooms. She swallowed hard, and was glad the room was empty.

"Twinkie," She called quietly, knowing the elf would come.

With Twinkie's help, it took a matter of only ten minutes to restore the room to its former typical Slytherin colors, and dark woods.

Ginny was exhausted. She had not slept well in over a month. Ever since she had been captured. Possibly before. She made her way back to her small room, which she had managed to remember her way to, and closed the door behind her.

She went to the small trunk numbly, and searched for any form of bedclothes. All she found was a short, thin silk slip, in dark blue. Another one of Malfoy's mind games no doubt. Even in privacy all she had to wear was skimpy and would barely cover her arse.

Now more than ever, Ginny missed her wand. If only she had it, she would be out of here, in seconds.

Well, Ginny was tired. But on principle, she would not wear the slip to sleep. He could make her wear a horrid, utterly sluttish outfit during the day, but on her own, she would wear what she liked. Ginny dug around the trunk some more, but could find nothing. In frustration, she ripped her current clothes off of her, and climbed into her small cot as is, nude.

As she slowly drifted off to sleep, she could not help but think about Harry and wonder where he was. Had he found what he was seeking? Maybe they were back at the Order already! It was a long shot, but it was possible. Maybe, they would come save her…

Her eyes snapped open. No. They could not come. It was too dangerous. A horrible trap. Ginny would just have to save herself. And Draco bloody Malfoy could go burn in hell.

* * *

"Miss Ginny, wake up now Miss Ginny."

Ginny rolled over in her blankets. She rolled too much. Ginny fell, hard.

She opened her eyes groggily, only to see another pair of large blue ones staring at her face. Surprised, Ginny yelped and moved her head back, resulting in hitting it on the wooden bed frame.

"Bloody fuck," She hissed in pain, and noticed, Heller, a small house elf gazing at her with a frightened expression.

Rubbing the back of her head, Ginny stood up slowly, tugging at the cotton nightdress she wore.

"Right then. I'm awake and all right Heller, what are my tasks for today?" Ginny asked while making her way to her trunk. She started digging for her clean work clothes.

"Actually Miss," He squeaked, "Master and Mistress Malfoy told Heller to take Miss Ginny to the dinning hall today. They says to hurry."

Ginny raised her eyebrows in surprise. This was new. In the past two weeks she had spent here at Malfoy Manor, she had hardly seen Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, which had been a definite plus, although she could hardly call anytime spent at Malfoy Manor a plus.

"All right then," She replied with a sigh, "I'll be back in a minute."

She grabbed her work clothes and under clothing, and went to the small adjoining bathroom. She shed her long cotton nightgown, and looked at it briefly.

After a week of begging Draco, she had finally managed to attain it. Refusing to wear the slip nightgown out of principle, Ginny was awfully cold at night.

After her first day at the Manor, Ginny decided to change tactics. She would be good. For now. She did all the tasks she was set, and worked hard to boot. Every night she would get to her cot, completely exhausted. As her 'reward' for acting well, Draco had finally agreed in giving her the warmer, more conservative nightgown.

Ginny shook herself from her thoughts and quickly dressed in her horrible muggle maid outfit. Bile still rose whenever she looked at it too long.

She washed her face, and pulled her hair into a loose bun. She really didn't care about impressing the Malfoy's. She brushed her teeth, and exited the bathroom.

Heller was waiting for her anxiously. "Okay Miss Ginny, let us go now." He started walking quickly out the door, towards the Malfoy's dinning hall.

Ginny followed the little elf, and once again remembered her first day at Malfoy Manor, following Twinkie, to the great ferrets' rooms. Tears threaten to rise to Ginny's eyes as she thought of Twinkie. She had not known her long, but the elf had been kind to Ginny. And it was all Ginny's fault she was gone.

Draco had known that Twinkie helped Ginny change his rooms, and although Ginny had lied to the elf in order to get her assistance, the elf was still punished. It turns out they were going to get rid of the elf anyway, but they did it cruelly.

Not only was Twinkie killed, but also she was tortured, horribly. Ginny had woken from her screaming in the middle of the night. Horrified, Ginny had rushed to where the screams were emitting, a room not far from hers.

When Ginny had arrived, Twinkie was in a puddle of her own blood on the stone floor. She was still alive, but barely. Other than her the room was empty.

Ginny tried to save the elf, to no avail. She cradled her in her arms. Ginny had cried. "I'm so sorry Twinkie, it's all my fault!" She apologized profusely but the elf simply shook her head.

"No Miss Ginny, Twinkie wanted to help you, to be free," She choked.

Ginny was stunned. The elf shuddered, and her last word was so quite, at first Ginny had been sure she had imagined it.

"Dungeons" Twinkie whispered, and closed her large brown eyes.

Ginny had sobbed. This death was all her fault! Lately, she had been doing everything wrong! If only she had shut her mouth and obeyed Malfoy, this would have never happened. But as always, her damn temper got in the way, her pride.

Ginny had spent the rest of the night there with Twinkie, sobbing herself to sleep. The next morning, she had woken on the stone floor, alone. Twinkie was gone. The blood was gone. Ginny was draped in a blanket. She had assumed it was the work of the other house elves.

Ginny pondered the meaning of Twinkie's final word. Dungeons? What did it mean? Was it a way to escape? Where were they? Ginny had searched the house, but could not find them.

Ginny was drawn back to the current events by the elf's squeaky voice. "Master and Mistress Malfoy said to let you in Miss Ginny." Ginny had not even noticed they had arrived at the door to the large dinning hall. She nodded, took a deep breath, and entered.

To say the dinning hall was grand was an understatement. It was very large, with marble floors, and pristine white walls. It was full of lavish artwork, pictures and statues all around, and in the center of the room was an extremely large mahogany table.

At the end of the of the table, sat Lucius, chatting quietly with Narcissa who sat to his right, while Draco, who sat to his left, stared out the large window. The door swung shut quietly behind her, and the three Malfoy's looked up at the intruder.

Ginny stayed by the door, as far from the three musketeers as she possibly could.

Lucius acknowledged her first. "Weasley, good, you're here. Well come closer! I'm not going to shout."

Ginny honestly wanted to throw one of the scones he was eating at his head. Instead, she walked quickly over closer the Malfoy clan. Blonde albino arses.

Narcissa eyed Ginny, and then turned to Draco. "You chose her work clothes I presume?" She asked snootily.

Draco nodded.

Narcissa sniffed.

Lucius sipped his tea.

Ginny wanted to get the hell away from the lot.

Finally Narcissa cleared her throat. "Right. _You_," She sneered at addressing Ginny, "are here because you won't be following your normal duties today. We are having a party this evening, a ball. And we need all the _help _working on the preparations."

Ginny dearly wanted to tell her that she probably would look a lot better if she would stop sneering so much, but she didn't think it would go down to well. Instead she nodded.

Lucius was the one to speak now, "This is a very important event, and you shall be on your best behavior, do you understand? One problem because of you, and it shall be very painful punishment. Understood?"

Ginny nodded once more. She really wanted to blow a raspberry in his face, but decided against it. She didn't feel like any torturing today.

Narcissa sniffed once more. Did she want a tissue?

"Well then, go to the kitchens, and the house elves will tell you what to do."

With those words, the Malfoy's all turned back to the food on their plates. Ginny turned to leave, but felt eyes on her back. She glanced back swiftly, to see Draco's grey orbs staring at her. He winked at her.

Ginny wanted to tell him how much she loathed him. Instead, she turned back to exit the dinning hall and go to the kitchens.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

"You there, elf! Bring me another fire whiskey. Quickly."

"Slow down there Malfoy, that's the third one already, and the evening just started."

"Shut it Zabini, before I shut it for you." Draco Malfoy scowled at his best mate, downed his new glass of alcohol, and sent the small house elf to fetch another.

Blaise Zabini shook his head, and grinned. "Is it really that difficult for you to spend one whole evening in the presence of your parents, and their… esteemed colleagues?"

Draco raised an eyebrow in response.

Blaise smirked.

The pair each took a sip of their drinks.

"Malfoy! Zabini! I've been looking for you two! Lot's of people here tonight eh?"

"Too many people if you ask me," Draco mumbled and finished his fifth drink.

Blaise shook his head again, "Excuse him Nott, you know how he gets around this lot."

Theodore Nott grinned, "Aye, I know how you feel mate. But these parties do have their perks. Did you notice the arse on Daphne Greengrass? I haven't seen her in a while."

Draco smirked, "I have. About a week ago actually. Turns out she's back from Ireland, for _good_."

Theodore and Blaise nodded in answer.

"Dibbs," Blaise said suddenly, a victorious grin splayed on his face.

"What? No fair! If I hadn't mentioned her, you'd have never even noticed she's back!" Theodore exclaimed in protest, but Blaise stood his ground.

"Doesn't matter mate. Dibbs means dibbs. Don't be too put down though, I heard Astoria's single too."

Theodore thought on this statement for a moment, "I suppose, but mate, if she doesn't want you, I'm going in for the kill."

Blaise smirked cockily. "No lady can resist the Zabini charm."

Draco scoffed. "Oh, I can think of plenty who have resisted the 'Zabini' charm."

Blaise's eyes twinkled with mischief, "Care to wager on that Malfoy?"

"You're on."

"I'm in too. I bet a hundred galleons that she'll turn you down flat." Theodore grinned.

"It's settled then. If I don't manage to convince Greengrass to come home with me, by the end of the night, which I will, then I pay you each a hundred galleons. If I win, you each pay me."

The boys nodded in agreement, and Blaise strutted off, searching for his target of the evening.

Theodore stared out at the crowd gathered in the Malfoy's ballroom. "Think he has a chance?" He asked thoughtfully.

Draco chuckled, "Not a chance. Greengrass is engaged."

Theodore stared at him incredulously, "What? But you never…" Theodore trailed off, and smiled as realization hit, "Oh you sly dog Malfoy."

Draco smirked, "Consider yourself a hundred galleons richer my friend."

The two chuckled and clinked their glasses.

"If you'll excuse me then, I would like to go see Zabini humiliated in public. Care to join?"

Draco shook his head, "No, go ahead. I've seen the bloke humiliated far too many times."

"Suite yourself," Theodore shrugged, and started following the same path Blaise had previously taken.

Draco sighed, and sauntered over to one of the lavishly decorated, empty tables. He plopped down on to an empty chair, and finished his glass, once more. He was tired. He was in no mood for parties. For his parents. For the other death eaters. All he wanted to do was crawl into his large, warm bed, and sleep, until this bloody party was over. He pinched the bridge of his nose. The alcohol's effects were slowly starting to work, but too slowly. It seemed Draco was becoming more and more immune to the effects. Damn.

He glanced at his golden watch, the one he had received on his seventeenth birthday. It was almost an hour after the beginning of the ball, but there was still a long way to go. Bloody hell.

Wait, wasn't the Weaslette supposed to be here, serving?

He rubbed his eyes. Yes, certainly, she was supposed to be here. But he had not seen her. So, where was she? What in bloody hell was she up to now? She had been good these past few weeks, but this was Weasley, and she was smarter than given credit for. Had she come up with some plan, to escape, today?

Impossible. Tonight, security was tighter than ever. She could not escape, unless with aid, and who would give her that, in a house full of death eaters, who would all love the chance to torture, maim, and kill her. The thought of her seeking _their _help was so laughable that Draco chuckled to himself, loudly.

Hmm… It seemed the alcohol was taking effect after all.

Thank god.

He gazed at the crowd. Laughing, dancing, drinking, eating. Tonight, their lives were going great. They were winners after all. Their side. Victors. All of them, filthy rich with the spoils of war. And he? Tonight he was drowning his thoughts in alcohol, so he would not have to think. About anything. So he could be like them. Pretend that all was wonderful. All their problems are gone.

Suddenly, a red mane caught his eye. So, the Weaslette was here. He focused on her. She was in her uniform, but it was different somehow. He blinked, and noticed, it was longer. More conservative. The neckline was higher as well. But, it was tighter, the dress. Certainly, his mother's doing. Draco scoffed.

Her hair was down, which was unusual, as she usually wore it up. He liked it down better, it was long and smooth, and looked like silky fire.

Silky fire? All right, the alcohol was definitely taking effect. And he wasn't sure from here, but could she be wearing makeup? Also unusual, but again, probably his mother's doing. And yes, she was serving drinks. Draco couldn't help but smirk at the scowl on her face. It wasn't prominent, and she hid it well, but Draco was a master of masks, and he could tell that beneath that calm, collected look, she was furious.

Wonderful.

"Slave!" He called out, not controlling the grin that spread on his face when she looked over. Responding to the call. She scowled. This time fully. She approached him slowly, balancing her tray of assorted drinks in one hand, the other clenching and unclenching on her side. Oh yes, Ginerva Weasley was especially angry today.

She reached him. So, she was wearing light makeup. Not much. Something to bring out her eyes, her empty eyes. And to redden her lips. Draco couldn't help but notice, but she had nice lips. "May I help you?" She asked, her voice laced with venom.

"Excuse me?" Draco asked tauntingly, smirking.

"May I help you, Master Malfoy?" She asked again, through gritted teeth.

"Yes!" He enthused, "I would like a glass of fire whiskey."

Ginny placed the glass in front of him. He took it and drank deeply, sighing contently.

"Right well, if that's all then…" Ginny said and turned to leave, but he grabbed her waist, turning her back to him.

"So," He slurred, "Have you ever tried a fire whiskey Weasley?"

"Of course." She answered.

Draco shook his head, a drunken grin playing on his features. "No… You've never had a Malfoy fire whiskey. The best! Made in our Manor in Scotland! Sit Weasley."

Ginny shook her head, "I don't think that's wise. I should get back to _your _guests," She emphasized.

Draco scowled, "Sit Weasley! I'm still in charge here," He grinned again as she sat, slowly.

He blinked. "Go on. Try the fire whiskey."

She did.

"Well?"

"It's excellent."

"Of course it is," He said smugly, "It belongs to us Malfoy's after all."

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, well it seems as though _you _have had plenty of them for the both of us."

Draco stared at her thoughtfully for a moment, "What are you still doing here Weasley? Shoo. Go serve the people. Fire whiskey's and whatever it is you have there." Ginny glared daggers at him, but stood, spun on her heel, and went.

Draco stared at her retreating arse.

Hmm…Maybe he should make her uniform permanently tighter?

* * *

**_A/N- End of chapter two! I hope you enjoyed, and please please REVIEW! It does such wonders for the motivation (: XOXOXOXXO_**


	3. If Only

**_A/N- CHAPTER THREE! AHHH! _**

**_So first of all I know it did take me longer than I expected to write this one. Writers block's a bitch... Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one... I worked hard (: _**

**_Disclaimer: The Characters belong to J.K Rowling, and the song in the begining, "If only" belongs to "Fiction Plane", from the soundtrack of the movie "Holes"._**

**_Enjoy and review! _**

* * *

_**The old man's been stealing  
She's holding her grievance for a hundred-odd years  
We all keep believing  
That history repeats itself year after year  
**_

A tear slid down Ginerva Weasley's cheek as she sang. She sang quietly, barely a whisper, almost ghost like. The song, one her mother had sung to her years ago, when she was a young girl, was embedded deep into Ginny's mind. The words swam before her, like memories, of all that was lost, and all that was oh so far away from reach.

_**All I fear is that the future is worse  
We have to give in to the hundred-year curse  
Sweat in the sun like we're digging a grave  
Dig deep enough and our fortune we'll save  
**_

She blinked as another tear escaped. She loathed this. These tears. Those memories. The pain in her heart, so deep, it burned.

_**If only, if only, the woodpecker sighs,  
The bark on the trees was as soft as the skies,  
As the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely  
He cries to the moon, if only, if only.  
**_

It was raining. How fitting. It seemed the skies were shedding tears with her. Perhaps they could feel her pain?

_**Chasing the skirt of a beautiful wife  
You make mistakes and it's my back that breaks  
And forever my past steals my life  
To submission I'm beat but there's hope beneath these feet  
**_

As she sat on her small cot, staring out the minuscule window, hugging her knees to her chest, the sobs racked through Ginny Weasley. It seemed all she could do was cry today. All the tears she had held on to these past two years seemed to be slipping out lately.

_**Blisters and blood and the sun makes you blind  
You don't let it eat 'til it can't help but be kind  
Cause you know what's important with your back to the wall  
You can break metal chains when your friends don't let you fall**_

But why today, out of the blue? It must have been her dream. It had shaken her to the core. But it wasn't exactly a dream, it was memories, flashing, forming her life.

**_If only, if only, the woodpecker sighs,_  
_The bark on the trees was as soft as the skies,_  
_As the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely_  
_He cries to the moon, If only, if only._  
**

Youthful games of backyard Quidditch with her brothers, her mother's cooking, her father's muggle infatuation, her jealousy of her brother's going to Hogwarts, the joy of getting her own letter, her first and traumatic year at school, the following years bringing joy, yet horrific events, her first kiss, finally having Harry Potter notice her, dating him, Dumbledore's death, the last kiss she shared with Harry, Bill and Fleur's wedding, Harry, Ron and Hermione leaving for their mission, Snape's and the Carrows horrible reign at school, Ginny dropping out from Hogwarts and going in to hiding with her family, joining the Order, countless hours of training and missions, getting captured, Azkaban, and lastly Malfoy Manor.

_**I'm a sword but I find myself blunt  
And that is no use when I'm fighting my history,  
Fighting my history  
I have no blade, I'm more like a feather  
That is no use when I'm fighting my history,  
Fighting my history  
I have no blade, I'm more like a feather  
But I can't fly away when I'm fighting myself  
**_

The flashes of memories ended at the Ball that had occurred the previous night, and that's when the dream had turned into a nightmare.

_**If only, if only, the woodpecker sighs,  
The bark on the trees was as soft as the skies,  
As the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely  
He cries to the moon, If only, if only.  
**_

_The graveyard was silent. Cold. And completely pitch black._

_Ginny stood still. How could she move, in this complete darkness? _

_She knew she was in a graveyard. She didn't know how she knew, because it was impossible to see anything in this blackest of nights, but she knew. _

_But then suddenly, there was a light. Or was it? No, it was a tombstone, of shinning white marble. It was large, and not too far from where Ginny stood. Curiosity took over, and Ginny found herself slowly approaching the shining white stone._

_Upon reaching it, Ginny studied the engraved words carefully, and screamed once she comprehended their meaning. _

_They read- _

Here lie-

Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley, Bill Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Percy Weasley, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter.

May they rot in hell.

_No. This could not be! A trick surely! Ginny did not want to believe those words. They were poison, killing all hope and happiness she had left._

_And then, before she could even scream, the graveyard was filled with laughter. High pitched, and chilling to the very soul. It was Him. But no, this was not who she had expected._

_This was not the Tom she had come to know, but Voldemort. Tall, his skin so pale it glowed, and his bright red eyes, narrowed. Behind him, stood none other than Draco Malfoy, hair slicked back as he used to wear it when he was younger. His eyes gleamed with malice, and his lips were turned to a cruel, cold smile._

_Ginny shivered._

_Before she could draw a breath, the pair drew their wands, training them at her heart._

_And with a joined whisper of the most unforgivable of curses, and a sudden green light, all was lost. _

_**If only, if only, the woodpecker sighs,  
The bark on the trees was as soft as the skies,  
As the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely  
He cries to the moon, If only, if only.**_

Indeed, Ginny had awakened that dawn in a cold sweat, and with the song her mother had sung long ago filling her mind. She had showered, long, to try and wash the dangerous dream from her mind.

And then, the crying had started. Uncontrollably, and irrationally, but once it had started it could not be stopped.

So now, Ginny tried to assess the time. She had woken extremely early, but a few hours had past by now, and surely, Heller the house elf would be popping into her room shortly, to wake her, and give her the list of tasks to be done today.

Taking a deep breath, she wiped the remaining tears from her eyes. She had to get her act together. She had to be in control of her emotions. She had to get a way out of this bloody house already! Away from all these murderers. These Death Eaters.

Another shaky breath. Another shudder. She got up slowly. She dressed in the fabric that was supposedly called a dress. She went to the bathroom and washed her face.

Pop.

Oh, so indeed, Heller had arrived.

"Miss Ginny?" He called out, his voice squeaking, making Ginny's already painful head throb once more. Damn it.

"I'm in the loo Heller," She called back softly, "just please leave the task list on my bed."

"Yes Miss Ginny." A quick scuffle, and a crack. He was gone.

Ginny rubbed her eyes, and returned into her small room. She picked up the parchment placed on her cot. Bloody hell, the list was especially long today. Ginny longed to collapse into more tears, just from the sheer frustration of this whole situation, but this was not who Ginny was.

She was strong, and she'd be damned if she let a nightmare break her. It was all right to cry once in a while, but she could allow it no more. She had to focus on getting out of this hellhole, and brooding would do nothing to help. Ginny grabbed the parchment and stuffed it into her apron pocket. She pulled her long red mane into a loose ponytail.

One last shaky breath. To Relax. Breathe.

And without glancing back at her current sanctuary, Ginny exited swiftly, off to start another day of work, for the devil himself.

* * *

It burned.

Fire, so hot that it was cold, traveling with lightning speed, and at the same time not traveling at all. His arm burned, possibly worse than ever before.

Draco Malfoy woke with a start. His arm seared painfully. Clutching it to his chest, he grabbed his wand from his bedside table. He tossed the thick sheets off of him, and with a swift movement, was out of bed.

He rushed to his large walk in closet, and threw on the blackest of all his robes. His Death Eater robes. He grabbed the mask, skull like and sickly white, from where it sat, hidden from sight.

Wincing as his arm burned once more, he slipped on the mask, his mask, and clutched his wand tighter. He tapped it lightly on his left forearm, the one that seared with an unworldly heat, and with the familiar sensation of being squeezed into a tube, he was transported.

He had been summoned.

The air whooshed back into his lungs, and he breathed in deeply, relishing the way his lungs expanded. He hated apparating. He looked around to where he had been called. It was a field. Large, white flowers everywhere. Didn't seem like the usual meeting place for the Dark Lord's servants. Draco's lip curled at the thought of being considered a servant.

He was not alone. Dozens of robbed and masked men stood, already forming a circle, the Dark Lords closest circle of followers. A considerably soft pop sounded near Draco, and he turned to see the arriver. Immediately, he recognized the man as his father. Although the mask hid his face, the hair, the stature, and just the way he held himself left no room for doubt.

Lucius nodded, at recognition of his son. "Good morning Draco," He said coolly, as the pair walked towards the circle.

"Good morning father. I trust you had a good night?"

"Indeed." Lucius replied.

They broke apart, and each took their places in the circle. Draco nodded in greeting to Blaise, who stood on his left. Theodore Nott was on his right. There was light chatter among the circle, but Draco did not speak. He was too tired, and he knew the Dark Lord would arrive soon, and they would have to shut it anyway.

Just as Draco had predicted, it was only a moment later when the tall figure of the Dark Lord approached. He was wearing long, billowing robes of black, similar to their own, but these were more majestic, royal. A hush fell over they circle, as they knelt when he arrived. Draco hated kneeling before anybody, but to disrespect the Dark Lord, was suicide. He knelt with everyone else, and bowed his head, hiding his grimace from all eyes.

"Rise." Called Voldemort, his voice raspy, and yet high pitched. Chilling.

Obediently his followers rose, keeping silence. Their leader had brought them here for a reason. He was about to speak.

"My loyal servants," He began, "I welcome you here today under happy circumstances! After many months of searching, we have finally discovered the whereabouts of the few remaining Aurors that had escaped. We believe that they know the location of the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters! Once we know the location, we shall attack, and we shall win. All forms of resistance shall be quenched, and they will all worship and obey us. We shall truly own the Wizarding World!"

Finishing his speech, he was greeted by a loud round of applause, whistles, and general voicing of agreement. The Dark Lord smiled, approvingly. His smile was more frightening than his glare.

"My Lord! Where are the Aurors? When shall we leave?"

Voldemort looked over to the husky, simpering, and yet excited voice. Bellatrix Lestrange. The only woman present. The only woman Death Eater who had gotten so high amongst the ranks. She was also the only one without a mask on.

The Dark Lord smirked. "Your blood lust is admirable, as always Bellatrix, but first I have an assignment for the younger members of our circle," He paused and turned to the left side of the masked followers. "Draco, Theodore, Blaise. I want you all to stay after the end of the meeting. I have an assignment for you, of most importance."

The three men nodded. It wasn't really an option, but they had to answer of course, out of respect. As Voldemort turned to speak with the older Death Eaters, telling them about whichever assignment they had, Blaise shot a glance at Draco. His dark eyes held the same question as Draco's grey orbs. What could the Dark Lord possibly want of them? They were in the inner circle, sure, but when it was assignments of 'most importance', it was usually left to the older, matured, and long time servants of the inner circle. This was highly unusual.

This worried Draco. Already once before, he had been given a task of 'utmost importance', but the only reason he was given this task had been so he would fail trying. And if he failed he'd be dead. Punishment for his father, after he had failed the Dark Lord. Yet somehow, it had all turned out all right for him in the end. Except for the fact they had officially started the war that night. All because of him. Dumbledore had died. All because of him.

But, Draco had hated Dumbledore, hadn't he? He was only a filthy muggle lover, wasn't he?

Draco shook himself from those thoughts. The past was the past. So much had changed since then. Draco had changed. He had grown. He had become skilled. Strong of mind. Put fear behind him. He learned to kill, ruthlessly, with no mercy. He had learned not to care. He had learned to turn to stone, on command.

The Dark Lord's sharp, high pitched voice drew Draco abruptly from his trail of thought once more. It was only then he had noticed that aside from, Blaise, Theodore and himself, the rest of the inner circle had dispersed, leaving them alone, with their master, the Dark Lord.

"You three," Voldemort began, "are the newest additions to the inner circle. This is a great honor, and yet, a great responsibility. So far, you have been given tasks of importance, but you always had the older, more experienced Death Eaters to guide you. I believe it is time that you three go out on tasks on your own, if needed. You have been trained long enough, fighting long enough, and I truly believe you are ready."

He stopped his speech, his red eyes gleaming, looking at each man's reaction. Draco felt a small smile grace his lips. This was what he had been waiting for. No more of being overshadowed by his father. He was finally being trusted, on his own. He noticed Blaise and Theodore were sharing the smile. They all shared these similar thoughts, waiting for their chance. Whatever the task, they could not fail.

The Dark Lord's thin lips wore a ghost of a smile as well. He was apparently pleased by their reactions. "I see, as I had suspected, that you three men are ready for this opportunity. Now, I want you to listen carefully, because if you shall fail me, I shall not be pleased." At this, his eyes narrowed.

"I have a portkey, which shall take you to the location of two former Aurors, who are currently in hiding. It seems as though at least one of them belongs to the Order of the Phoenix, and they certainly shall know the location of headquarters. Now, these are the only two Aurors left who I am _sure_ have information on the Order. You shall take the portkey, and it will take you to a small cottage, somewhere in the forests of Ireland. Now, remember that these are trained, skilled Aurors. They will not be taken down without a fight. You are _not _to kill them, until you have useful information. I shall be very, disappointed, should you return without no information what so ever."

Draco stopped the impulse to shudder at the Dark Lord's harsh tones. They knew he was not speaking lightly. They had each had a chance to suffer when the Dark Lord was disappointed. It wasn't exactly a picnic.

"My Lord," spoke Blaise, "are we to kill the Aurors once we finish interrogating them?"

Voldemort smirked. "Why my dear boy, I'd be surprised if you didn't. Oh, I forgot to mention, one of them is a female Auror, so I just want to remind you men, I do not tolerate any forms of… sexual torture. Understood?"

The three nodded firmly, simultaneously.

"Good," Voldemort smiled, "One last thing before you leave. Draco," He turned to look Draco in the eyes, "You are in charge of this mission. They have to listen to you, and I expect results. Do not disappoint me."

"Of course not my Lord. We shall get the information, no matter what it takes." Draco replied seriously.

The Dark Lord nodded. He took out of his robes pocket a fairly large, copper button. It shone with a slightly blue light. The portkey.

With a small flick of his wand, the button flew into Draco's palm.

Voldemort nodded at the trio once more. "Enjoy," He said simply, and with a pop, he had disappeared.

Immediately, the portkey started to shine brighter, and Blaise and Theodore each came to place a finger on the button. They did not speak, as they felt the familiar pull behind their navel, and were whooshed away, to begin their mission.

* * *

"I'm telling you mate, it's this way!"

"Theo, shut the bloody fuck up will you? Prick. Can't you see the smoke from the chimney?"

"Oh. Right then. Carry on."

Draco shook his head at his counterparts bickering. They were like an old married couple. Honestly!

The three men walked quietly, with purpose, through the thick forest, looking for the hideout of the Aurors. It had been nearly an hour now, that they had been searching this large forest, when finally they had seen smoke, which could only be chimney smoke from the way it traveled straight up, and they were now going towards it.

Draco stopped suddenly, a sudden realization taking form. Blaise and Theodore, noticing this, stopped abruptly as well.

"You know what's bothering me," whispered Draco, "These are _skilled _Aurors. Surely, they would know to hide chimney smoke, with their protective enchantments."

And just as the understanding of his words took place on the others faces, they heard a rustling sound, behind them. The trio whirled around, wands drawn, searching for the source of the sound. They saw nothing, but that hardly meant anything.

"Homenum revelio," Draco whispered, and suddenly, two bright lights appeared from the bushes in front of them.

Someone cursed, and then a red jet of light flew toward the three. Blaise dodged it easily. And than it began.

Spells were shot from the bushes, and Draco and Blaise returned fire, earnestly. Meanwhile, Theodore went around, to surprise the Aurors from behind. They were simply out numbered.

One of Draco's stunning spells apparently hit it's target, for a cry was heard, and then another when Theodore arrived from behind. Draco heard him mutter something, and then he walked back towards Draco and Blaise, the two Aurors levitated behind him. The three boys shared smirks of triumph. Blaise quickly went around, making a circle of protective enchantments, should anyone unwanted come near, and meanwhile Draco helped Theodore restrain the two captives.

"For some reason, I expected it to be more difficult." Theodore shrugged, after binding the male Auror with invisible bonds.

With a swift flick of his wand, the female Auror was restrained as well. Draco stood up, and dusted off his hands. "Well, now we have an even more difficult challenge. Ready to wake them up?"

Theodore clapped Draco on the back. "Let the interrogation begin!" He exclaimed happily rubbed his hands together.

"You're twisted mate." Draco's said, his lip curling.

"Nah, I'm just bored. This girl Auror is quite fit isn't she?"

Blaise grinned. "She certainly is."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Enough. Let's finish our task and get out of here."

"You're no fun mate."

Draco did not reply. He wasn't in the joking mood today. For some reason he was in a very sour one, and all he really wanted was to complete his job and go home, to sleep. He pointed his wand at the woman captive and muttered the spell to revive her. They would start with her.

Almost immediately, the female screamed. Loudly. Draco hissed in annoyance and silenced her with a quick flick of his wand. He was in no mood for loud, yelling chits today.

Theodore smirked, and knelt down next to her. "Now love, no reason to scream. All we want is to ask a few questions, and if you answer them, we'll be on our merry way."

The woman considered Theodore for a moment, and then spat in his face. Blaise laughed, and Theodore wiped his face in anger. He pointed his wand at her, and muttered something under his breath.

The woman started writhing in pain, her mouth opening in silent screams they could not hear.

"Enough," Draco said, and when Theodore lifted his curse, Draco lifted his silencing charm as well. "What's your name?" He asked the woman sharply, his wand trained at her face.

She looked up at him in defiance. Draco really did not have the patience for this. "It's a simple question and it would do you best to answer. We have many ways to torture, and I don't think you'd particularly enjoy any of them."

"Unless you're just kinky like that," Blaise added cheerily.

The woman glared at him, and turned her light brown eyes on Draco next. "You and you're Death Eater mates can go to hell. I'm not saying anything."

Theodore shook his head, "That's what they all say," He began circling her, and knelt down behind her. "But you see, eventually they spill it all, all their secrets," He hissed, "because the pain is unbearable, and they just want it to stop."

There was a moment of silence, and then a sickening crunch, and a blood-curdling scream, as he broke her finger.

Tears formed in the woman's eyes, and Draco could tell she would break easily. Her brave words were nothing but air. She would not last long under torture. Good.

"Now," Draco said as his grey orbs narrowed, "what is your name?"

The woman whimpered, and then there was another crunch, and a horrible scream of pain, and she sobbed, "Grace Bone, my name is Grace Bone."

"Bone eh?" Blaise said thoughtfully, "Were you at Hogwarts by any chance?"

Grace did not answer straight away, but when Theodore apparently gripped another of her fingers, she exclaimed, "Yes! Yes I did got to Hogwarts." She was sobbing heavily now, and Draco sneered.

He could not stand crying woman.

"Hufflepuff I assume?" He drawled, and she nodded.

Blaise snorted and Theodore smirked.

"Alright Bone. Down to business. Are you a member of the Order of the Phoenix?" Draco asked cuttingly.

"No," she whimpered, but her eyes travelled down to the floor.

"Stand her up." Draco ordered, and Theodore heaved her into a standing position.

Draco placed his wand under her chin. "Tell me the truth Grace. Lying will not do you any good in this position. Are you a member of the Order?"

She shook her head, but again her eyes did not meet his.

He sighed, "Crucio."

Grace fell to her knees instantly, screaming in pain. Draco stared at her for a moment. He couldn't help but think back to the day he had cursed Ginny with this exact same curse, and she had not uttered a sound.

At the time he had been much angrier than he was now, and yet the red head, who was obviously younger and less experienced, had managed not to scream from this curse, when a trained, older and more experienced Auror had not managed to remain silent. How odd.

He lifted the curse, yet left his wand trained on Grace Bone's face. "Don't lie to me Grace. It will just worsen your fate."

"You know mate, you sound awfully melodramatic." Blaise noted from behind, and Draco shot him a glare.

"Care to take over then?" Draco spat, and Blaise grinned.

"I'd love too!" He exclaimed, and came to stand next to Draco, his wand trained on Grace's face as well.

"'Ello love, I don't believe we've met yet. Blaise Zabini, pleased to meet you." He took off his mask, his smile wide and joyful. Blaise liked to toy with his pray.

Grace's eyes widened slightly. Death Eaters did not reveal their identities. Ever. Draco stared at his friend in amazement, and then took of his own mask, which then Theodore followed suit.

Well, it's not like these two Aurors would be living to tell the tale.

"Now sweetheart," Blaise continued, "this doesn't need to be painful. We don't enjoy harming lovely ladies such as yourself. Don't make this any more difficult than it has to be hmm?"

Grace did not reply.

"Theo," Blaise called, "Mend her fingers."

Theodore shot Blaise an incredulous look, but did as he said. Draco just shook his head. He now understood exactly what Blaise was doing, and he had to admit, it was quite smart. Grace looked at Blaise with wide eyes. She could not understand this man. He wasn't like other Death Eaters.

Theodore muttered a spell and a golden light shot out of his wand, to Grace's hands. Almost instantly, her face relaxed with relief, and her tears stopped flowing.

"See, we can be nice too. We're not all horrible monsters," at the Blaise shot a look to Theodore, before turning to smile at Grace again. "Now, honey, tell us. Are you an Order member?"

Grace nodded. Blaise winked lightly at Draco, and Draco couldn't help but smirk. Yes, Blaise's plan was smart.

"Good girl," He crooned, "wasn't that easy? Now, could you tell us where the Order headquarters are?"

Grace shook her head, and Theodore raised his wand, but Draco put his hand up.

"Don't hurt the girl Theo, let her speak."

Grace looked up at him. Apparently, she did not expect mercy from Draco. Well she shouldn't. But he would play along, for now.

"Tell us, you seem so young to be an Auror. How old are you?" Draco asked smoothly, using his most charming smile.

Confusion clouded Grace's eyes. "Twenty. I haven't been an Auror long. About two years." She confessed quietly.

This time Draco was confused. Weren't these supposed to be skilled Aurors? Definitely odd. Oh well, it was easier this way.

Draco nodded, but did not continue to speak, instead he let Blaise continue his manipulations, as it seemed the most effective tactic on this chit. He turned his attention to the still stunned man tied not far from Grace Bone.

He looked older than the woman, with graying brown hair, and a scraggly beard, although it was not long. He had a lined face, with small scars in random places, along his neck as well. He was obviously the older, more experienced Auror. So, how could he have allowed himself to get caught, so simply?

He continued to look at this man, who judging by his scars, had seen many battles, and yet, he had been caught, captured, and would soon be interrogated, by none other than three men, who were much younger and under experienced. Sure, they had been to battles, many even, but in no way possible could they be as experienced as this Auror. Well, one thing was for sure. This man would be much harder to interrogate than companion.

A sudden bright green light filled the clearing, and Draco turned his head swiftly to see Grace Bone fall back on the ground, brown eyes empty and staring, dead.

He turned his attention back to Blaise and Theodore, who were both looking obviously disappointed about something. It wasn't too difficult for Draco to guess the reason.

"She had no useful information then?" He asked, his voice laced with disappointment as well.

"None," Blaise replied, "She was just a new recruit to the Order. Hadn't even begun training yet when there was an attack upon her home and she managed to escape. Met this one," He paused and jerked his head in the direction of the male Auror, "in some woods somewhere in Scotland. They were on the road for a few months, and finally stopped here. Found some abandoned cottage apparently."

"Damn," Draco cursed. He had hoped that the girl would have the information that they needed, so they wouldn't have to interrogate the other Auror too much. He knew that it was a long shot, but still, this Auror would be much harder to crack, and Draco really wanted to get back to sleep soon.

"Shall we wake the other one then?" Theodore sighed and yawned.

Apparently, Draco was not the only one anxious to get back to sleep.

"Yes," Draco nodded, and then paused thoughtfully, "Get rid of the girls body though. I think we might have a chance that he'll cooperate if we use her safety as leverage."

Blaise smirked, "Smart mate."

Now it was Draco's turn to smirk, "Yes, I know, I'm bloody well a genius. Which reminds me, Blaise, don't you owe Theo and I a hundred galleons, each?"

Blaise's smirk turned to a scowl, "Bloody prats the pair of you."

Theodore grinned, "That may be my friend," He said as he put his arm around Blaise's shoulder, "But we are bloody prats who are now a hundred galleons richer."

Blaise's scowl deepened as Draco and Theodore chuckled.

"Alright, lets just wake up the poor bastard and be done with it," Blaise grumbled.

Draco smirked, but did not reply. He swished his wand and levitated Grace Bone's body behind some thick bushes, and placed an excellent concealment charm on her. After admiring his work as she slowly disappeared, he turned back to the clearing, to see Theodore waking the male Auror.

The Aurors light brown eyes opened slowly, taking in his surroundings, and his face twisted into a look of the utmost contempt, as he saw the three men standing before him.

"Well well, I see they've started recruiting especially young ones now. What next? Death eater five year olds?"

Draco smirked coldly at the man. "We may be young, but we sure as hell had no trouble catching you."

The Auror's sneer did not falter, "You know, they say that with arrogance, comes blindness, boy."

Draco studied the man's face carefully, but did not reply.

"Enough of this," snarled Theodore, "Tell us, where are the headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix?" He had whipped out his wand, training it on the older man's face.

The Auror considered him for a moment, the sneer still etched into his features. "That wand isn't scaring anyone kid. Put it away until you learn how to use it."

Theodore scowled, "I'll show you exactly how much I know. Crucio!" He shouted.

Instantly the man started writhing and twisting in agony. He did not scream, but he did hiss in pain before Theodore stopped the curse. He grinned in his triumph against the older man.

The Auror simply laughed. "You honestly think that I can't undergo a little mediocre torture? You must be as stupid as you look."

Theodore raised his wand again, but Draco stopped him. "Enough mate."

"Yes, listen to blondie," rasped the Auror.

Draco's icy orbs turned to the man. "You think I stopped him out of mercy?" He scoffed, "I just don't think torture is what will make you talk. Your little friend that we found with you on the other hand…" He drawled with a smirk, satisfied to see the man's eyes widen slightly.

"Grace?" He asked, and after getting an affirmative nod from Blaise, his eyes widened more. "Where is she? What did you do to her?" His voice was filled with panic.

"Absolutely nothing. Yet." Draco said, his eyes narrowing. "If you want her safe, you will talk. Or we will torture her until every bone in her body breaks, and her pretty little neck will snap. Personally, I don't think she will handle torture as well as you. Do you agree?"

"Leave her out of this!" Snarled the Auror, his eyes flashing. But Draco could already see the sweat forming on his brow. He was worried. Wonderful.

"I will. If you talk. What's your name?"

The Auror's eyes narrowed, but he answered nonetheless, "It's Gill. Gill Reed."

Blaise snorted. "Please. Don't lie about your last name. The resemblance between you and _Gracie_," He sneered, "is uncanny. How are you related?"

Draco blinked in surprise. Until Blaise had said this, he had not noticed the resemblance, but now that he looked, he could see it. They had the same exact eyes, hair, nose even. Definitely related.

Gill stared at Blaise in wonderment for a moment. When he did not answer, Theodore flicked his wand in the direction of some trees, and immediately, a loud, chilling scream filled the forest.

"Grace!" Gill shouted, turning his head, searching for the source of the sound. When he could not find it, his eyes landed back on Draco. "Please, I'm begging you, I know that you have no mercy, but please, leave her out of this. Do whatever you want to me, but just don't hurt her."

"I won't," Draco replied coldly, "As long as you answer our questions."

Gill nodded. "Alright then. I'll answer your questions. I'm Grace's father," He paused, "But she doesn't know. She thinks I'm her uncle. See, I left the family and her mother wouldn't let me her even see her! And then I found her in the forest, and I knew her instantly. I told her I was her uncle, because I didn't think she'd take to me to kindly if she knew the truth."

Draco nodded in satisfaction, and Blaise smirked. Theodore was still scowling in loathing at the man who had mocked him.

"Now that we've established that, we've come here on business purposes. We know that you're an Order member, so don't even think about denying it. What rank are you?" Blaise asked.

Gill's eyes searched the trees again, obviously looking for his daughter. His eyes landed back on the three, tall, handsome, and intimidating men. He knew what they were capable of.

He hung his head in defeat. "I was a 'Fawkes'. Level three."

Blaise whistled, but Draco eyes narrowed again. "What do you mean 'was'?"

Theodore eyes snapped up, "Did you get kicked out for being an old, incapable sod?"

Blaise chuckled, and Draco felt his lip twitch, but he did not laugh at the jeer. He was waiting for his question to be answered.

Gill's eyes narrowed. "I left the Order when I had heard my daughters family had been attacked, and that she had survived. I went searching for her."

Draco nodded, "I see. But didn't you say you were a _high ranking_ Order member? I'm supposed to believe they just let you… leave?"

"You know lad," Gill sneered, "The Order isn't like your Death Eaters. If someone chooses to leave, they aren't killed for it."

It was Draco's turn to sneer, "Perhaps that is why the Order are all in hiding and we are taking control over the Wizarding World?"

Blaise sighed, "Mate, could we finish up here? I have a hot date tonight."

Gill scoffed, "I see you are oh so devoted to your _cause_."

Theodore flicked his wand towards the trees once more, and another, horrible and shrill scream filled the clearing. "Enough, with your bold words filth. Tell us where your headquarters are, or you precious daughters dead," he snarled.

Gill's eyes had widened again. "I can't," He sighed, "Even if I wanted too, I'm not secret keeper. I can't reveal the location."

Draco sneered, "How about you take us then?"

Gill shook his head, "Even if I was to take you to the door, if you don't have a special coin, you cannot enter."

Blaise scoffed, "You must admit that's smart."

Theodore's patience had worn. He grabbed Gill by his shirt collar and hoisted him up. "If you have no useful information, what use are you or your daughter? Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill her now, slowly, and painfully."

"Alright, alright! I can't give you the location, but I can give you the secret keeper. Not of 'Fawkes' though. Of 'Ash', the training base." Gill exclaimed, his eyes wild with fear.

Draco smirked. Finally, something useful. "Well," He drawled when Gill did not continue speaking, "We are _waiting_."

"I don't know where he is, the secret keeper. I only know his name." Gill said in a rushed breath, his eyes skimming the trees once more.

"Which is…" Blaise prompted lazily, leaning against a tree trunk.

"It's Bill Weasley. There, I gave you what you wanted. Now _please_, let my daughter go. Kill me if you must, I don't care. Just please let her go."

Draco smirked coldly. "Your daughters dead Gill," He laughed cruelly, "She's been dead before we even woke you up."

Gill's eyes widened, "Grace? Dead?" He whispered, "But…the screams?"

"Surely," Theodore laughed, "An Auror should have recognized an echoing charm?"

Gill's eyes lingered on the three men standing in front of him. He scanned each of their faces, looking for a sign of deceit, of lies. He saw none. His face flushed.

"What have I done?" He whispered to himself.

"You have done exactly what we knew you were going to do Gill. You wanted to save Gracie. At least, you did something right." Blaise said, a small and mocking smile upon his face.

Gill's face turned red. His eyes burned fury, and if looks could kill, the three men he was glaring at would be dead on their feet. "I hope that one day, you will all die, the most painful death possible, I HOPE YOU ROT IN BLOODY HELL YOU BLOODY BAST-"

"Avada Kadavera," Draco said simply, and the green light instantly filled the clearing, and left Gill on the floor, face still stuck in a silent scream, dead.

Theodore cracked his knuckles. "Finally. I was beginning to worry we'd be stuck here all night."

"The bodies?" Blaise asked casually.

"The usual," Draco replied, and went to retrieve the body of Grace Bone. They set the bodies side by side, and Blaise shot out a spell, instantly lighting the pair on fire.

Without turning back, the trio exited the enchanted barrier, and with a crack they were gone, off to report their findings, and begin the hunt, for the eldest Weasley.

* * *

Ginny was exhausted.

There were no other words to describe it. She was truly tired. Of everything. She was tired of being a servant to the Malfoy's. She was tired of all the meaningless, mindless tasks she was forced to do. She was tired of seeing the smug smirks, and wicked grins, everyday.

She wanted out, but she didn't know how. More and more lately, there had been a thought, of a solution, that continued to pop up, but she would constantly push it away.

It was too cowardly, unforgivable even. She wouldn't. She couldn't. Could she?

No. Suicide wasn't an option. Not for her. She could never bring herself to end her own life. It seemed like too easy of an escape. It seemed like cowardice to her.

No, she would buck up, and take whatever life would throw at her. She could handle it. She would not spend the rest of her life serving the Malfoy's. She would get out, even if she died trying.

Repeating this mantra to herself, she rolled on to her side. Grabbing the thin blanket of the cot, she clutched it closer to her body, trying to stay warm.

It was an exceptionally cold night.

It was raining, as it had been constantly these past few days. It seemed it would be a very rainy, and cold winter. As was usual in England, but still, the dark weather bore no improvement on Ginny's dark mood.

Ginny sighed, and rolled over once more. She could not fall asleep. These past few days, she had been working less, for she was assigned fewer tasks. Which was good, but she became less tired, and that left time for night ponderings.

Draco had gone off somewhere, on some 'important business', which Ginny knew could only mean some Death Eater bullocks. Either way, it was better for her, for then she did not have to see him everyday, and she had less work to do.

She turned over once more, and tried closing her eyes.

There. Quiet.

Sleep will come.

Breathe. One… Two… Three…

Crack!

Ginny shot up, out of bed, looking around the dark room, for the source of the loud noise. Suddenly, a candle was lit, and Heller the house elf was staring at her with wide eyes.

"Sorry to wake you, Miss Ginny, but Master Draco says he wants you to go to his rooms, now Miss."

She stared at the elf for a moment, trying to catch her breath.

Heller coughed slightly, "We needs to hurry Miss."

She cleared her throat, "Yes. All right. One moment." Ginny really wanted to yell at the elf for scaring her so badly, but it was just following orders. It wasn't his fault his 'Master' was a bloody git who called on people in the middle of the bloody night.

She grabbed her shoes, from where they sat aside the trunk, and slipped them on. She opened the trunk, wishing to grab a cloak, but cursed silently when she realized she didn't have one. Bloody wonderful.

In only her thin nightgown, Ginny was cold. Yet, she followed the elf out of the room, knowing that she didn't have much choice in the matter. Fucking ferret.

The arrived at Draco's rooms, and Heller knocked timidly.

"Enter," Draco's voice drawled from within.

Ginny scowled at the sound. She hadn't missed him.

Heller opened the door, but did not enter himself. He was gone with a pop, leaving Ginny, to face the Malfoy heir, alone. She walked in quietly, and closed the door behind her. Then she turned to face him.

It was funny how she had forgotten how handsome he was in his absence. Her feelings of hate had turned his features into despicable ones, but now standing before him, she could not deny how good looking he was.

Funny, how such a horrible person could be so incredibly… beautiful. Looks are indeed deceiving.

"Weasley," Draco smirked, "I'm glad you could come so quickly." He was standing by the fireplace, the only source of light in the room. It illuminated his hair, tousled messily, and his eyes were gleaming.

"Yes," Ginny bit out, "I was having trouble sleeping."

"Indeed," Draco noted, his eyes traveling at the length of her body.

Ginny forced herself not to scowl. "What is it you wanted?"

"Now now, princess, it almost sounds like you aren't pleased to see me. Haven't you missed me?" He teased, the smirk never leaving his lips.

"Now," Ginny drawled sarcastically, "What on earth gives you that idea?"

He studied her for a minute, "Come here Weasley." He ordered, but his tone was still playful.

Ginny took a small step towards him. He laughed, and closed the distance between them, almost completely. He mouth was inches away from hers, and she felt her breath catch. She cursed her body's reactions.

He leaned down, and tucked a strand of flaming hair behind her ear. "Have you been a good servant while I was gone Weasley?" He whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her.

She did not reply. Her pulse had quickened. This was not good. What was he doing? She hated herself for being attracted to this monster.

"Still waiting for an answer sweetheart," He breathed. Ginny simply nodded, not trusting her voice at this moment.

"Good," He pulled back, grinning.

Ginny blinked, her pulse slowing, and she scowled. "Was that all you brought me here for Malfoy?" She hissed, her temper bubbling. She was tired now, and if he had brought her all the way up here for a stupid question she was going to rip his-

"No, of course not princess. Sit." He replied, his grin not fading. Why the hell was he in such a good mood?

Ginny complied, sitting on the floor. She knew not to expect to be sitting on the comfortable armchairs. And not to sit would just piss him off. Which was good usually, but she really didn't feel like being tortured tonight.

"Weaslette, I have a question for you. It is very important, and it would do you well to answer, truthfully." He said, his smirk now lost.

Ginny did not reply. This wasn't going to be pleasant. She could already tell.

"Tell me, where is your dearest brother Bill hiding?" Draco asked coolly, his tone soft, yet held warning to it as well.

Ginny stared at him wide eyed. Surely, he did not honestly think she would tell him? Was he that thick?

"Well? I'm waiting."

Ginny blinked. Time to lie. "I have no clue where my brother is Malfoy. I haven't seen him since last Christmas." She replied smoothly.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "Oh, I don't believe that. One more chance darling, tell me where he is, and it's easier on the both of you."

"Sorry _darling_," She continued, "I have no clue where he is."

Draco sighed and pulled out his wand, "I tried to be nice. You're just too damn stubborn Weasley."

Ginny gazed back into his cold eyes, bracing herself. "Give me your best shot Malfoy. I'm not saying a word."

"Suit yourself," He shrugged, and raised his wand to her face.

* * *

**_A/N- END chapter three! Alright so I know there wasn't a lot of interaction between Draco and Ginny this chapter, but this chapter was necessary, and the next one holds a lot of interaction... Anyhow, I do hope you enjoyed this one, and please REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW .. xoxoxoxo_**


	4. Harder to Breathe

**_A/N- Chapter four! Alright so it is shorter than the other chapters, I know, but I ended it where it felt right, and I didn't want to put too much into one chapter. I really hope you enjoy, and to those who review, know I truly appreciate it! So read, REVIEW, and enjoy! (: _**

* * *

_"And like a little girl cries in the face of a monster that lives in her dreams _

_Is there anyone out there cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe"- Maroon 5, Harder to Breathe_

* * *

She would not scream.

She couldn't. She wouldn't. Not for him. Not for any Death Eater.

She didn't care what he did. He could leave her bleeding on the floor, she would not beg, or cry in pain. She would not ask for mercy. Not from him.

She was determined of that.

She did not know how long had past, how long he had been torturing her in cruel, twisted ways. All she knew was that everything hurt, and in the few weeks she had spent in Malfoy Manor, out of Azkaban, she had forgotten how much one's body could ache.

It seemed funny, that in this wicked place, she had been tortured less than Azkaban, where she had been tortured nearly everyday. Lucius Malfoy himself had said she had been tortured almost more than any other prisoner.

But here, she had been good. Mostly. And she had not been hurt since her first day, physically at least. She had stopped being used to the constant pain. Which is why it seemed now, these curses brought on more agony than before. So much more. And Draco? He was definitely skilled in this art, the art of causing excruciating pain.

But Ginny could not succumb. She could not scream, or cry, or yell, or beg him to stop. It would only make him happier. And if there was one thing she wanted, it was to make him as unhappy as possible.

He shot another silent curse at her. And suddenly, she was burning. It felt as if she was being charred alive, from the inside out, her core exploding, and her heart bursting with heat.

She bit down on her lip, to stop the scream that had nearly escaped, and she drew blood.

Draco's cold eyes did not miss this action, and he lifted the curse. "Ready to talk yet Weasley?"

Ginny lifted her dark eyes to him, her glare was full of more hatred than she had ever felt before. "Like hell I am Malfoy," She spat.

He sighed, "Being tough isn't going to do you much good in this situation princess, you'll tell me eventually," He leaned down, and he whispered, coldly, "And if you can't give me information I need, what use do you have? I could just kill you."

"Go ahead then," She whispered in return, her glare challenging him.

"I might," He said and stood, his wand pointing to her chest once more, "but not just yet. You still know things I need. Crucio."

Amazing how just one word could bring on new waves of pain, so quickly, so terribly, so horrific.

Ginny writhed on the floor of Draco Malfoy's room, for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. A small part of her wanted to cry. A much bigger part of her wanted to gouge Draco's icy eyes out and snap his wand in two.

If only she had a wand, she would probably have him screaming in agony, in seconds.

When the curse stopped abruptly, Ginny gasped, and her lungs expanded, filling with air. She had not noticed she had been holding her breath.

Draco smirked, "You know, turning blue doesn't suit you Weaslette. Clashes horribly with you're hair."

Ginny took a few deep breaths, enjoying the feeling of the sweet, cold air, relaxing slightly. Then she turned to him, a small smile on her lips. "Didn't know you were so interested in fashion Malfoy. What's next? You'll start doing your nails?"

Draco's eyes flashed for a moment, but they did not hold the anger Ginny had expected. He seemed… amused?

Indeed, his smirk had not slipped, and his eyes gleamed now with apparent mischief, "You bide considerably well under physical torture," He said. It was not a question. He was stating this. "So," He continued, "I think I will just have to find another tactic, hmm?" He mused and started circling her limp form. "Legilimens!" He shouted suddenly, and Ginny had no time to prepare herself.

Memories flashed through her mind, so quickly, and it was almost like her dream, and she could not get him out of her head, although she knew Occulemency. He flipped through her memories as though pages, as if looking for something. She was just lucky that all the information on the Order was behind such a specially built mental barrier, that he could not possibly break it.

Suddenly, he stopped on one memory. She saw herself, much younger than she was now, no more than eleven, and she was writing, into a book, a journal it seemed, and she was pouring her heart out into this book. And suddenly she was not sitting by a desk writing, but in a dark chamber, cold and damp, and He was there, whispering things-

"NO!" Ginny roared, and with energy she had not known she had left, she forced him out of her mind, closing it off, filled with it's haunting and unwanted images, things that even she could not bring herself to see.

Draco looked taken aback. The shock was apparent on his face. Obviously he did not expect Ginny to be able to fight back. Yet, his surprise only lasted for a moment, and his mask slid back into place.

"It seems the Order _does_ train their lackeys well," He drawled, a sneer playing on his lips.

Ginny scoffed, "Lackeys? The Order aren't the ones recruiting people, only because of threatening to wipe out their families! The Order _aren't_ the ones bowing down to a revolting git and kissing his ar-"

He stopped her rant, with a flash of blue and loud bang, which sent her crashing into the wall.

"You will not speak with such disrespect," He snarled.

Ginny had barely heard him. Her head was spinning, every inch of her ached, and she felt as if she could lose consciousness any moment. Something hot and wet and trickling down her neck. Slowly, she reached out a hand, touching it to the back of her head, and looking at it confirmed that she was bleeding.

She groaned, and turned to look at Draco, who had his arms crossed, impatience sketched on his face, and his eyes, nothing but pure ice. "What do you want from me?" She whispered. It was the only thing that came to mind. Her head was throbbing.

"Answers," He replied simply, his gaze hard on her face.

"You'll never get them out of me," She said softly, "You might as well give up."

The ghost of a smirk appeared on his handsome face. He walked towards Ginny, crouched down beside her, watching her face, studying it. Finally, he whispered in a low voice, tucking a strand of flaming hair behind her ear, "I always get what I want, _Ginerva_."

Ginny shivered despite herself. Git. What was he playing at?

Suddenly she froze, as she felt his wand pressed up against her head. Before she could say anything, he murmured something, and with a tingling sensation, the throbbing in her head ceased.

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked slowly, truly not understanding what was wrong with this strange wizard.

Draco's eyes skimmed her body. Ginny shuddered slightly. His smirk grew. She cursed herself for letting him see that.

"Tell me sweetheart," He crooned, "Have you ever been with a man?"

"Have you?" She countered, and his face split into a grin.

"Such ugly words, leaving such a lovely mouth," He whispered, and his long pale fingers stroked her cheek. "Now answer my question _Ginny._"

Ginny could feel her eyes cloud with confusion. She looked into his grey orbs. They held something she could not decipher. A sense of mischief and…? Whatever it was, she did not like it. Time to lie. Again.

"Yes, of course." She answered slowly again, hoping she sounded convincing, and simply taken aback by the question.

Draco shook his head, a smirk forming, "Come now darling, don't lie."

Ginny glared at him. Was he implying that she wasn't capable of getting a man? Angry, she sat up, albeit slowly for she was still incredibly sore, and she lifted her chin, looking him straight in the eyes. Chocolate met ice.

"I've had boyfriends!" She exclaimed indignantly.

Draco laughed. "I know you have, we did go to the same school after all. But I mean have you ever," He paused and leaned in, his mouth inches from hers, "had _sex_?" He finished his voice dropping an octave.

Ginny wanted to make a witty remark back, but she could barely breathe. He was so close, and despite how much she loathed him, he was incredibly good looking, and smelled amazing.

She also wondered how he knew that she was a virgin. It scared her that he knew and had gone to this topic. It wasn't as if she was some virgin prude, waiting for marriage, or for some perfect man to come along. It was simply that she had never gotten a chance to.

When she had been at Hogwarts, dating Michael, or Dean, she had never even given it a second thought, for she knew she wasn't ready for it yet at the time. The only one she had really considered the possibility of it with was Harry, but he broke it off after Dumbledore's death, and then he left. Of course, she knew he had done it because he had too, but it hurt nonetheless.

After that, she had been far too caught up in the war too care about it. She had no time for dating. Simple as that.

But what did she say to Draco now? He was obviously planning something, some devious way to make her talk. She could not fall for it. He was cunning, extremely so, but she was no fool. It felt once more, like a game of chess. He had made his move. Now it was her turn. She had to be smart, or he'd beat her. She had to win. At _this_ dangerous game, failure was not an option.

Ginny stared at his face, considering his expression and her options carefully. Then in a swift movement, she moved in closer, their lips now not even an inch apart. She looked into his eyes. She saw some amusement and surprise, and she smirked inwardly.

"Of course I have Malfoy," She whispered, acting through and through, "and it was bloody wonderful."

He pulled back suddenly, and stood. He had one eyebrow raised, and his eyes traveled over the length of her body.

"Have you?" He asked casually, sounding bored. Oh he was playing.

Ginny's temper flared, but she kept her mask. She nodded, smiling a sickly sweet smile at Draco. She ignored the way her body screamed in protest, as she stood up slowly.

Draco smirked, "You know, there _is _a perfectly easy way of checking."

Ginny grinned and waved her finger at him, "Funny Malfoy, but I'm ready now. You can't get inside my head."

Draco chuckled loudly, "Silly witch, that's not what I meant." He took a few, quick strides towards her, and pinned her to the wall, "I meant, there's another way, which is much more enjoyable, to check." His eyes were smoldering and Ginny's breath caught in her throat.

Bloody Fuck.

Ginny swallowed loudly. She couldn't answer. She didn't know what to say. He had her cornered, literally, and now she had to face the consequences. Damn her Weasley pride and temper! She should have just told him the truth.

Then a sudden idea struck her, and she smirked. "You can check if you like Malfoy," She said watching his eyes, "but all your going to find out is what I told you. Harry took care of it a _ages_ ago."

Something flashed in Draco's eyes once more, before his mask fell back into place. She had struck a nerve, she knew. Mentioning Draco's old and biggest rival, who had usually beaten him, was not something that made him happy.

Served him right.

"You lost you're virginity to _Potter_?" He asked, but underneath his casual tone, she heard the venom masked.

She nodded.

Draco considered her for a moment, and then with a swoop of his head, his lips met hers. They were soft.

Ginny did not move. She did not respond. She was shocked. Her eyes were wide open. It was quick, just slightly more than a peck, but it had stirred something in Ginny that she had forgotten about. Excitement. Butterflies. She felt disgusted with herself.

Draco simply smirked at her shocked expression. "Don't lie to me love, I know you never slept with Potter."

Ginny stared at him for another moment. Then something came over her that was beyond her control. She hadn't even planned to do it, although lord she wanted too, and it felt so wonderful.

But the second her fist smashed into his jaw it was so completely satisfactory. Then almost instantly, she knew she had made a grave mistake. She gasped.

Draco's eyes turned stone, and his wand was out in seconds, pressing into her throat.

"You must be suicidal," He growled.

Ginny did not answer.

"I'm tired of this game Weasley, tell me what I want to know now, and I just might not kill you."

Her eyes narrowed, "I already told you I'm not going to tell you anything. We've already established that you won't get me talking by torture, and you can forget about reading my mind again. Give up Malfoy."

Draco sneered coldly, his eyes taking in her face. And in a sudden, swift movement of his hand, he was clutching her nightdress top fabric tightly. Ginny gasped slightly again.

"It's high time you learned some respect Weasley, and if you don't want me to rip this garment off you right now, and hurt you in ways you've never thought imaginable, I'd start obeying. Don't forget, I _own _you now."

Her mouth went dry. "Stop it," She murmured quietly. It was all she could muster, and she knew it sounded weak, but it was the best she could do.

Draco scoffed, "Please, don't pull your worthless pitying methods. I don't pity blood traitors."

She stared at him long and hard. His face was serious, but his eyes, cold as they were, held something else.

"You won't rape me." She stated, the realization suddenly dawning on her.

He lifted an eyebrow, "I hardly think you know what I am capable of."

Ginny shook her head, "If you were going to, you would have already. You don't have it in you," She said, and a small smile graced her lips.

He glared at her, but stepped back nonetheless, releasing her nightdress. "Don't feel so elated Weasley," He spat, "I simply can't stand the thought of touching you."

Ginny ignored the remark, "Didn't seem that way when you were kissing me."

Draco snorted, "That was just to wind you. Surprise you into saying things."

It was Ginny's turn to raise an eyebrow. Draco had just let slip of some of his mask. His techniques. He realized this too. He scowled, raised his wand and shot another silent curse at Ginny. It knocked her back, against the wall, but that was the end of it. Ultimately, she was surprised she had not been served with something worse.

Draco turned his back on her, "Leave now," He ordered, "I should have bloody well killed you already." He murmured, but Ginny had heard him.

She was sick of this threat. Always that. A threat. And something inside her exploded. The famous Weasley temper, it's full wrath held back for so long, it had finally reached a broiling point.

"THAN BLOODY KILL ME ALREADY!" She shouted, surprising even herself partly.

Draco whirled around, his eyes wide. "What?" He asked dumbfounded.

Ginny took a deep breath, "Kill me then if you want too so badly! I don't care! I'd rather be dead than here! Kill me! Go on! Do it, you said you want to! I want it too! Do it! Kill me!" She yelled, furious tears coming to her eyes.

Draco continued to stare at her thunderstruck as though he had never seen her before.

"WOULD YOU STOP GAPING LIKE A FUCKING FISH? Are you a Death Eater or not? You kill people all the time! What's one more? And a Weasley at that! You should be excited! Go on then, KILL ME!" She screamed, her voice cracking, and tears rolled down her cheeks, and sobs were threatening to come, but she repressed them.

"You want to die?" Draco asked carefully, his wand grasped in his hand. He kept a careful distance from Ginny.

"Isn't that what I just said? Are you deaf? PLEASE KILL ME! I'd rather be dead than have to spend any more time with YOU! IN THIS HOUSE! I HATE IT! I HATE YOU! I HATE THIS WAR! I WANT TO DIE IF IT MEANS IT'LL BE OVER!"

Draco took a deep breath, "Calm down Weasley." He said quietly, but his voice was dangerous and filled with warning, his wand was trained at her, as if she'd attack any second.

"I WON'T! I'M SICK OF DOING YOU'RE BLOODY BIDDING DRACO FUCKING MALFOY! GO TO BLOODY HELL! YOU DON'T OWN ME! YOU CAN'T CONTROL ME!"

She truly at this point just wanted it to end. She didn't want this weight on her shoulders. She wanted to be free.

"Don't. Make. Me. Hurt. You. Weasley," Draco said slowly, his tone angry, filled with malice.

Ginny laughed. It sounded deranged. Maniacal even. Shrill. "Oh yes!" She shouted, "Because it's nothing you haven't done before, is it? Please don't pretend to give a damn Malfoy, we both know you enjoy hurting people for your own twisted pleasure! What, do you get some sick sexual fantasies out of it? Is that it?"

Draco took a deep breath through his nostrils, "That's enough Weasley. I warned you. Stupefy!" He called suddenly.

A red light shot out of his wand, and hit Ginny before she could dodge it.

And then, everything was black.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was anxious.

He walked down the long, stone corridor, his destination in sight, straight ahead.

It was cold here. It always was.

The torches flickered ominously, shedding light, but not nearly enough. It was dark here, almost as being outside in the dead of night. He reached the door and paused. The door was grand. Dark wooden, and heavy, with designs of iron decorating it, and a serpent knocker.

Draco knew what lay on the other side of the door. The Dark Lord. Waiting for the information he, Draco, had sworn to retrieve. But he had failed.

He had managed to extract the information from a skilled Auror! But not from Ginny Weasley! It was an outrage! Unacceptable! He, a Malfoy, powerful, who had killed skilled and strong men, but could not get a small bit of information out of a simple girl?

How he loathed her.

With a deep breath, he knocked on the heavy door. It was time to face his failures. Bloody hell this was going to be painful.

"Enter," said a soft, hissing voice from inside.

Draco swallowed loudly and pushed the door open. The room was large, round, and stone all around. It was dark, and the only light in the room emitted from the large stone fireplace, which flames flickered green. The walls were covered in bookcases, and there was a large desk in one corner, and a large oriental rug covered the floor.

He sat behind his desk, his snake curled upon his shoulders, and he appeared to be writing something. Voldemort. Pale and white in the moonlight, red eyed slits. Draco, it seemed, would never be used to his startling appearance.

Voldemort looked up, and a small smile graced his lips. "Draco, I trust you have information for me?"

Draco nodded steadily, "Yes my Lord, I do. Although," He hesitated, "It is not complete."

The Dark Lord cocked his head and considered Draco for a moment. "Speak," He replied finally, quill still in hand.

Draco nodded and cleared his throat, "As you know my Lord, we had succeeded in the interrogation of the two Aurors. All though they could not give us any location of headquarters, as they were not secret keepers, they could however give us one of the secret keepers." Draco paused and Voldemort nodded, motioning for him to continue.

"Bill Weasley, they told us, is secret keeper for the Order's training base 'Ash', and we have been searching for him since." Draco took another deep breath, "We were searching for nearly a week, and there is no traces of the Weasley's anywhere. Their old home is completely evacuated, as are all places we know that are connected to them. I had then decided my Lord, to turn to the only Weasley whose location _is_ known to us."

Voldemort nodded, "The Weasley girl."

"Yes my Lord," Draco replied.

"Well, surely she knows where her brothers are," Voldemort smirked, "So Draco, where do we attack next?"

Draco swallowed and cleared his throat once more, "Well my Lord, she didn't exactly say anything."

"You mean she has no knowledge of her brothers location?"

Draco fiddled with his collar slightly, "Not exactly my Lord. I mean, she would not give up any information whatsoever."

Voldemort raised his nonexistent eyebrows, "Even after hours of interrogation?"

Draco nodded, and winced, bracing himself for the worst. What happened next however surprised him.

The Dark Lord chuckled, and looked extremely amused. "So, you are telling me, you managed to extract top secret information from a skilled Auror, but not from a little girl?"

The remark stung, yet Draco was well aware of this. It was what bothered him about this situation most of all.

Voldemort stroked Nagini, and his expression turned thoughtful. "It seems," he began, "That the Weasley girl is stronger than she seems, and much more valuable. Very interesting."

Draco was taken aback. What on earth was he on about? A Weasley, valuable? Maybe to lure in Potter, but other than that, he could still not understand why she had been spared.

"Sorry my Lord?"

Voldemort cold eyes shifted back to Draco, and his smile returned. It was eerie. "I should like to meet with her myself one day. But not yet. I currently have higher priorities," His eyes shifted back to the parchment on his desk, "You have done well Draco, I am satisfied. You may go."

To say Draco was stunned was an understatement. He had not been punished for his failure. He had been told he had done well. He wasn't writhing on the floor in current agony, as he had been expecting.

He did not let his emotions be displayed however. He nodded curtly, thanked the Dark Lord, and exited the room swiftly.

As he walked down the long corridor, his thoughts traveled to the hidden meaning of the Dark Lord's words, but he could find no explanation.

All he now knew was that Voldemort found Ginerva Weasley 'interesting', and _that_ could mean nothing good for her.

* * *

The wind blew, rustling the leaves on the trees, the only source of noise in the enormous forest.

In the heart of this forest, you would not hear sounds of the stream bubbling, nor of the wildlife living between the tall oaks.

You would hear only the wind, and the leaves, and the quiet footsteps of one lone traveler.

He walked quickly, with purpose, his cloak dragging on the dirt floor, and his hood hiding his face from sight. He held his wand in front of him, lighting his path. He had not been walking long. Perhaps five minutes, yet he was searching, searching, and not finding. It was incredibly frustrating.

He was usually a patient man, and he did not mind the quiet, the solitude. But today, he had news, of great importance, and it would not do any good if he were to arrive late.

On he walked, knowing his destination to be near, but where was it?

Suddenly he stopped. Not by will, but he had been forcibly stopped, by what appeared to be an invisible barrier.

He smiled.

With the help of his wand, he cast a few spells, over himself as well as the barrier, finally dissolving the obstacle, allowing him to enter. After he stepped in however, he repeated the spells, which he had just erased, causing the invisible barrier to reform, this time with him inside of it.

He turned, and the object he was searching for stood, in front of his very eyes.

Although it was dark, the building shone in the moonlight, it's stone colored ivory. It was a handsome building. Tall, at least fifteen stories, large windows, and a large roof, which although he could not see it currently, he knew was a dark auburn. Although it was tall, it did not seem very wide, yet he knew it was much larger from the inside.

The courtyard was simple. Green grass filled the clearing, flowers, trees and shrubs skirted it randomly, for it was not particularly a priority to keep the courtyard neat.

He walked straight ahead, the gravel from the walkway crunching underneath his feet. Upon reaching the grand double doors, he tapped them with his wand, and immediately a series of metallic clicks were heard, before the set of doors swung open.

The second he entered the building, the doors swung shut behind him, and another series of metallic clicks were heard, effectively locking the doors.

The foyer was large, and grand. It reminded him of Muggle hotels he had visited briefly, marble and light, with a small fountain playing in the middle of it. There were large wooden counters, labeled with the words 'Security Clearance', and a few couches and coffee tables were scattered around the foyer.

In the far end, there were a line of unoccupied lifts, and that was towards where he headed next.

The foyer, which usually was bustling with people, was empty tonight, for he guessed nearly all of the buildings occupants were sleeping soundly at this late time. Even the security counters were deserted, but he had no need for them anyhow.

He reached the lift and entered, tapping his wand on the iron grill that closed the lift behind him.

"Level fifteen," He said quietly, and immediately the lift started, slowly taking him up to his next desired location.

Arriving, the iron grill opened with a small 'bing'. He stepped out of the lift, and began walking down the long marble corridor, a set of large golden doors waiting for him at the end of it.

Unlike the dark foyer from which he had come, the corridor was lit brightly, decorated with colorful paintings and statues, all of which were either sleeping, or greeting him cheerfully.

He did not have time to stop and chat, but he did nod politely in passing, and continued on. He stopped upon reaching the golden doors. The doorknobs were golden as well, and seemed to be patterned, but he knew the pattern to be words, random yet connected, small, but still readable.

He had read them quite many times before, but tonight he would not stop to ponder their message. He tapped the door with his wand, muttered a few words, and the door swung open gracefully.

The room was extraordinarily large, marble as well, but it resembled a courtroom. On one side, there were dozens of rows of benches, made of a light marble, and across from the benches was a podium, tall, and it held seating for four.

The room was decorated beautifully and artistically, and two large fireplaces were crackling merrily, on either side of the room.

This grand chamber however, was not empty.

Quite the contrary, it was filled, each bench holding a few people, and although the room was not filled with all the buildings occupants, a fair number were here, waiting. Upon entering, he was instantly greeted by many, some coming to hug him, some shaking his hand, others waving merrily.

He greeted them in return, truly joyful to see them again. He had been gone for a while. However, he was here on business, and it was extremely important that he shared his news as soon as possible.

Thankfully, a loud, booming voice stalled the greeters.

"All though we are all very happy to see you, you have news to share I believe? It would be best to deal with matters of business first."

He looked up. The voice had arrived from the podium, and the speaker was the only one of the four who was standing.

The speaker was a man, who looked much older than his true years. His clothes were considerably shabby, and his hair was graying, but he had a kind face, and he was obviously in charge here.

He nodded to Remus Lupin as well as to the other people occupying the podium, and then to the men and woman taking hold of the marble benches.

"Yes," He replied loudly, and then cast a magnifying charm over his voice.

He removed the hood of his cloak and began to speak once more, facing the crowd.

"Yes, I bear news," Bill Weasley continued, every eye in the room locked upon him. "And you are not going to like them."

* * *

**_A/N- I truly hope you enjoyed, please please REVIEW! xoxoxoxox_**


	5. The Five Stages of Grief

**_A/N- WOW! So this chapter took me a long time to write! Things were super busy, and I had writers block on top of everything! UGH! But here it is! I worked really long and hard on this so please please REVIEW! Enjoy loves (: _**

* * *

_"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,  
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,  
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum  
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come._

_Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead_  
_Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,_  
_Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,_  
_Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves._

_He was my North, my South, my East and West,_  
_My working week and my Sunday rest,_  
_My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;_  
_I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong._

_The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;_  
_Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;_  
_Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood._  
_For nothing now can ever come to any good." - W.H. Auden, 'Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone'_

* * *

It was a beautiful day.

The sun was shinning bright in the sky, drying the remaining puddles after the last rainstorm. Birds were out, chirping, bees were buzzing, and flowers were stretching their leaves, soaking up the welcome sunlight. The sky was blue, crisp, with only few fluffy white clouds gracing it, as if splattered across a portrait.

Truly, a beautiful day.

Alas, Ginerva Weasley did not have time to enjoy the lovely weather that was so rare at this point of year in England. She was far too busy, working.

She had awoken that morning in her cot, completely unaware as to how she had reached it. The previous night was a complete blur. She could not remember a thing. Her body ached all over, and she had countless bruises gracing her skin.

Yet after a few minutes of grogginess, and with an enormous struggle, she had managed to recall the night's events. The memories brought a chill down her spine.

The Death Eaters were searching for her brother, Bill. She did not know why, but it was not too difficult to guess. Bill was an important and treasured Order member. Surely, they did not seek his presence for a mere cup of tea and some biscuits.

Draco Malfoy had logically turned to her, to seek out her brother. But of course, who better to know his location but family?

And yet it was foolish of him to expect her to give up any information that would endanger her family or the Order. Did he really not understand the concept of loyalty?

Probably. He was a Malfoy after all. They were only loyal to the highest bidder.

Currently, that was Voldemort,

Ginny could not help but wonder if the scales were tipped, how would the Malfoy's fare?

If the Order ever shall manage to end Voldemort's reign of terror, then surely the Death Eaters would be hunted and persecuted, and thrown into Azkaban for the rest of their sorry excuses of lives. And the Malfoy's would go right along with them.

She could not help but smile at the thought. The three groomed and pristine Malfoy's in dirty cells, sleeping on straw for the rest of their days.

After fluffing the pillow of said youngest Malfoy once more, and smoothing out the duvet cover she straightened up to admire her handiwork.

Housework without a wand for assistance made the tasks all the more grueling and demanding, but she could not help but feel a deeper satisfaction at a job well done by her own two hands.

Glancing once again towards the open window and the bright blue sky, she felt the familiar pang of longing in her chest. How she wished to be in those skies again, just her and her broom. Nothing but the wind on her face, and the freedom in her heart. Adrenaline coursing through her veins at the sheer speed of it all… There was no feeling like it.

Turning her head sadly away from the inviting open window, she began to walk towards the door, to exit the grand bedroom.

A sudden fluttering and a dull hoot stopped her in her tracks. Spinning once more to the window, her suspicions were confirmed. Sitting at the windowsill sat a large tawny owl, which glared at her disdainfully and full of contempt. Was it really possible for an owl to posses such a look?

Apparently.

Upon closer inspection, she saw that a letter was tied to the leg of the owl. Not a surprise, and yet...

Whom could the letter possibly be addressed to? The Malfoy's were gone, doing god knows what for the next three days.

Shortly after awaking that morning she had received her usual task list, and a following short note by Draco, simply saying the family would be leaving for three days, her tasks were to continue, and warning her not to try anything stupid.

He could go fall in a hole. The ferret.

She was extremely happy with their leave. Firstly because things would become even more awkward with Draco now, after her outburst, so avoiding him was best. Secondly because she fully intentioned to take advantage of the Malfoy's absence to poke around. She wanted to try searching for the dungeons again.

Therefore, with Draco's leave, she did not expect any letters to arrive for him now. The owls would have flown straight to wherever it is he's at.

In conclusion, the letter was not for Draco.

But then, for who?

As she approached the owl, he stuck his leg out at her, waiting for her to take the scroll of parchment and send him off. She blinked in surprise. A letter for her?

Who could possibly write her? No. Not when she was here. It was a mistake. Must be.

And yet, her natural curiosity drove her forward, to gently detach the scroll from the owl's leg. Hooting once more, he took off, not waiting for a reply.

Ginny stared at the parchment in her palms. It was for her.

_Ginerva M. Weasley_

_Malfoy Manor_

She did not recognize the writing. It was articulate and neat, written in a deep blue ink.

Turning the parchment over, she was even more surprised to see the seal. It belonged to the Ministry. Her hands were shaking now. Whatever this was, this letter would not bare any good news. The Ministry belonged to Voldemort. She had no reason to be receiving mail from them.

She was afraid. But she was no coward. A true Gryffindor. And so, taking a deep breath she tore the wax seal, trying to prepare herself for what was to come.

It was enough for her to see the first sentence.

Her breath caught in her throat.

And then, she fell to her knees.

* * *

_**Denial**_

The red jet of light was shot out of nowhere, narrowly missing his left ear.

He cursed, and whirled around to face his new attacker. He could not see a face, but he knew this was a skilled opponent by his stance alone.

They stared each other down for a moment, studying one another, wands drawn.

And then, as if by some silent cue, they began in unison.

Their wands twirled, and they dodged, dipped, and rolled, in what an outsider might think was an odd dance. On and on it went, and it seemed as if the rest of the world had faded. He focused only upon this man, his adversary.

Yet, they were not alone. All around him, other lights were flashing. Reds, blues, purples, greens. Colorful. Beautiful. Deadly.

He dodged another red light and shot back a green one. Finally, he hit his mark.

His skilled opponent fell over, quickly, dead. Quick. Simple. All it had taken were two words. And this man was dead.

He could not help but wonder the skilled man's identity. Moving quickly, and impatiently fixing his hood over his platinum locks, he approached the man. With his wand as light, he shed it over the face.

His mouth dried. His heart skipped a beat. He could feel the blood drain his face. It was not possible. It could not be. This man was already dead. He had been there! Seen it!

Caused it.

Graying brown hair, and a scraggly beard. Light brown eyes opened wide. A lined face, with small scars in random places, along his neck as well. And a ghost of a triumphant smile, stretching across his aged lips.

It was the Auror, the one they had killed along with his daughter, in Ireland. Nearly a month ago. How could this man have been alive now? Fought now? He, Draco, had killed him!

It did not make sense. It wasn't possible. It was trouble.

And the Auror, he had known. All along.

He had known whom he was fighting. He did not care that he would die, because he knew something Draco Malfoy did not. Something that was not good for their side.

Bloody fuck Merlin's saggy trousers.

The world seemed to be moving in slow motion. Nothing existed but him and the Auror, just like in their battle. But this time, Draco was not twirling his wand, dodging spells. He was realizing he had made a grave error. They had missed something. Big.

And although it felt that all was quiet, he was wrong.

The battle had not ended.

Lights still flashed all around, the only source of light on the hilltop. People, masked and unmasked, fighting to the death. Screams of anguish or triumph everywhere.

Bodies littered the ground, the casualties were heavy. The night was cold and dark. He could not see faces, only outlines, and bright, skull white masks gleaming in the moonlight.

Still in an angry and confused dazed, he watched the battle continue around him. He heard something behind him, jerking him back to reality, but he was too slow.

The curse hit, and he instantly gasped at the pain in his right arm. His wand arm.

He glanced down, and his suspicions were confirmed. He was bleeding. Badly.

Swearing with all his might, he turned to his newfound attacker, who had made a mistake. He had hesitated after his curse hit.

This man's death was quick. He was not nearly as skilled as Draco.

After killing the man who had injured him, he quickly conjured a cloth, and with a wave of his wand, it tied itself tightly against his wound. He was not good at healing charms. It would have to do, for now.

Out of his daze, pissed, and ready to kill, Draco strode deeper into the midst of the battle. He moved with speed and grace, and took down every opponent who came his way. He was a great dueler. He knew. He used this. He won.

And finally, as the first rays of sun began to litter the skies, the battle was over. The Order members, who had not died, had fled.

Draco sighed, and then lifted his mask.

Suddenly, he was clapped on the back, and he couldn't help but jump. Beside him, someone laughed.

Blaise Zabini.

The wanker.

"Jumpy, are you mate?"

Draco glared at the dark man beside him, "Just tired. Not everyone is a morning person you know."

Blaise grinned, "No, but I think you are just naturally cranky. Cheers mate, we could be dead now!"

"At least then I wouldn't be seeing your ugly face Zabini," Draco grumbled. His head was pounding.

Blaise was not fazed, but his smile did drop upon noticing Draco's arm. "Crikey Draco, you're bleeding!"

"Yes, I'm aware," Draco drawled. He was too exhausted for Blaise's antics and he felt weak. Alas, he did look down to his arm, and his eyes widened.

In the heat of the battle, he had practically forgotten of his wounded arm. He saw now that the blood had soaked through his makeshift bandage, and had drenched the whole right side of his robes.

He cursed loudly.

Blaise looked grim. "You need to get to a hospital mate."

"No. I'm fine, really." Draco shook his head firmly. He despised hospitals.

Blaise raised an eyebrow, "You are injured, badly. Shouldn't you get over your fear of healers already?"

Draco scowled, "I'm fine, I'll patch it up at the Manor. And I am not _afraid_. They just like to prod their wands too much. Besides, we have much bigger issues to worry about." He disregarded his sudden dizziness.

"Enlighten me then."

Draco continued to glower, but grabbed Blaise's arm and dragged him away from the remaining Death Eaters, and their prying ears.

This fast pace walk made him dizzier, but he steadied himself, and turned to his dark haired counterpart. "Do you remember those two Aurors from Ireland?" He inquired quietly.

Blaise nodded.

Draco's head was still aching, but he needed to tell Blaise. Clutching his head, which was still spinning, he continued.

"Well today, during the battle I saw," Here Draco broke off, taking deep breaths, trying to control his sudden nausea.

Blaise seemed concerned. "Mate, we should really get you to St. Mungo's."

Draco shook his head, "No healers!" He hissed, and then continued in a more controlled tone.

"Take me to the Manor."

"But-"

"Now!" Draco said loudly, fighting the pain in his arm, head, and swells of nausea.

Blaise did not continue argue, but took hold of Draco's uninjured arm, preparing to apparate.

Draco sighed with relief, and closed his eyes, embracing the sudden darkness.

* * *

_**Anger**__**/Depression**_

Rain.

It fell, clear drops from the sky, plummeting down to earth, leaving behind no longer a drop, but a splatter.

A splatter, which then slowly, joined with other splatters, formed a puddle.

She could not seem to look away, as the lightning flashed, or as the small droplets hurtled down from the black clouds. As they wet the earth, as they formed countless puddles.

She was mesmerized.

She might have been watching it for days, or hours, or maybe just minutes. Time did not matter. Not now. She had no strength. To calculate. To think.

Every muscle ached. Every movement sent a new wave of pain. She would not move. She had no strength.

She was not broken. Not yet. But she was splintered. Something small had shattered. She could not mend it. She had no strength.

She had always prided on her strength. It had been considered a good quality. Important. It helped her to focus when times were difficult, to continue on and keep surviving.

But now, it seemed lost, buried deep inside, where she could no longer find it.

No tears fell. Her dark eyes were dry.

She was numb. Cold. Indifferent. Nothing was real. Nothing mattered. Time did not pass, life did not go on.

How could it?

He was dead.

How was it possible to believe that the world continued to turn with him gone? It wasn't. She would not go on. She _could_ not.

Her stomach felt hollow, as if emptied by magic. Her throat was dry, her heart beat dully, and her breath was shallow.

Her feet were cold. She was cold. But she did not shiver, or shake. It was meaningless if she felt slight discomfort, when he could no longer feel anything at all.

She _knew_ he was dead. Gone. She _knew_ there was no way he was alive. But she could not help but hope, dully, that this was all a nightmare. A terrible, tragic, nightmare.

Alas, she _knew_ that this fantasy was only that, a fantasy. She was a logical person. Not one to dwell on fantasies, and fairy tales, and happy endings. She was realistic. She _knew_ he would never return.

Never to smile warmly again. To embrace her in his strong arms. To make her laugh. Tell her tales of wondrous adventures. Hold her when she cried. Give wise advice.

No, she would never see Charlie Weasley again. His body would lay cold now, under the earth, blissfully unaware of the woes happening up above him.

Her stomach gave another lurch, and she gasped, letting in a rush of air. She had stopped breathing for a moment.

_He_ would never breathe again.

It seemed so simple. To take a life. All it took was a curse. Two poisonous words, and it was all over. Yet, what happened after was not simple at all.

And for what? He had died for nothing. _Nothing_.

A war. A battle. A duel. A death.

Again, and again, and again, and again.

A vicious cycle. And for what?

_Nothing_.

Families torn apart. Friends lost. Spouses missing. The world in ruins.

All because of one man.

One cruel, malicious man. He turned the world upside down. He ruined everything.

Everyone.

No one was innocent. He had taken that too. Children, forced to see wickedness they had not though possible, growing up far too fast. Too fast. Even those who had taken a stand, to stop this menace, to save the world, were no longer innocents. They were forced to battle, and harm, and even kill.

All because of him.

Voldemort.

She loathed him like no other. She wished him dead. She wanted to cause him pain. She wanted to make him feel like she felt.

But how could she? She felt agony, over the loss of a loved one, whereas he did not love.

He did not care about the life or death of anyone but himself.

But she would find a way. She did not care if she wasn't the one to kill him. That was Harry's role. But she would cause him _pain_.

She did not know how, she did not know when, but she knew she would do it.

It was vindictive, and cruel, she knew. It was not how she was raised.

But she had changed. Because of him. She was darker, crueler, than she let on. Ever since he had tainted her, she had never been the same.

Not very different, no. But her innocent outlook on life had changed. She used to feel compassion for all, but now, that was lost.

She did not pity those who hurt her. She hurt them back.

He had taken so much, caused such horrors and sorrow, that she knew she must return the favor. She felt it in every bone in her body.

She must cause him pain.

She would avenge her brother, Charlie, sweet Charlie, so kind, and brave and strong. His death would not be in vain.

She did not care what it took, but she vowed to herself, that she would hurt him. She would make him feel this grief. This agony.

If the world must keep turning, then it must all have a purpose. And her purpose was clear now. She would avenge her brother. She would hurt Voldemort, somehow, someway.

She would inflict this awful feeling upon the monster.

Watching the rain, still lost in its natural beauty and her own wretched thoughts, Ginny Weasley swore that she would live to visit Charlie's grave, causing as much pain and sorrow among those who kept her from it on the way.

No, his death would not be in vain.

* * *

_**Bargaining**_

He opened his eyes to complete chaos.

House elves scurrying this way and that, a wooden coffee table in front of him covered with vials, potions and bandages by a dozen, and incessant shouting.

He felt dizzy.

Blinking again, he noticed he was on a sofa, and a familiar one at that. His.

He felt tired.

No. Worse.

Exhausted. Weak.

His throat was dry, and he had a foul taste in his mouth. His eyes were dry as well. His right arm was numb.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

Bloody hell. What was going on?

Suddenly, a pair of large, blue eyes met his. A house elf.

"Master Malfoy," It squeaked as it scrambled toward him, "You have finally woken! We's was so worried!"

He scowled at the elf's voice. It made his head throb.

He wanted to shut the creature up, but his voice was nonfunctioning, all that came out was a rasp.

Stupid throat.

He needed water. But how the hell was he supposed to get it? Mime?

Out of the question. Malfoy's do not mime.

And yet, how was he supposed to receive his much needed water?

His savior then came in the form of Blaise Zabini. Not that he would ever dare admit it.

Blaise approached Draco with a smug grin on his face and a tall glass of water in his hand.

"Thought you might need this mate," He said as he handed the glass to Draco, whom in turn clutched it carefully, and took long, satisfying gulps. Only after finishing the glass's contents, did Draco turn back to Blaise, who was smirking from an armchair across from him.

"So," Draco began, not really knowing with what words to begin.

"So," Blaise repeated, a knowing look twinkling in his eyes.

"What the hell happened after we left the battle?"

Blaise sighed and repositioned himself on the armchair, looking for a more comfortable sitting position. His jovial look was gone and he was rubbing his temples.

"We almost lost you mate," He finally replied.

"Are you taking the piss?"

Blaise shook his head, "You lost so much blood, it was a miracle you didn't pass out sooner. When we apparated it didn't affect you well. You turned completely white, more than usual mind you," Here Blaise paused to see if his joke had lightened the mood, but it did not.

Draco was shocked. He had been injured before in battle, but never had he reached such a critical state. His arm right arm felt completely numb. Could there be permanent damage to it?

"Blaise, mate, what's the damage?" He finally broke the silence.

Blaise sighed again. "After we managed to get you stabilized with a few potions, I sent for Healer Green, your family healer. He took over and managed to patch you up, but he said you're arm would take time to heal and fully function again."

"How long Blaise?" Draco asked slowly, his chest tightening.

"Could be weeks, or maybe months. It depends on each person."

"Months?"

"I know mate," Blaise sighed, "But it could be wore. You could have lost you're arm, or died."

"Well aren't you comforting," Draco grumbled to himself, and then turned back to Blaise. "Does the Dark Lord know?"

Blaise nodded, "As do you're parents. They will return tomorrow."

"You told my mother?" He asked disbelievingly.

"It's hardly something you can keep a secret."

"My mother hovers!" Draco hissed.

Blaise shrugged, "At least she cares about you. Look mate, you should be happy. It will take a while but you'll be fine. It could have been much worse, and all you need to worry about now is to sleep mate."

Draco scowled, "Don't test me Zabini."

Blaise chuckled and then glanced at his wrist watch, causing him to swear. "I can't stay, I have a meeting at the Ministry."

Draco nodded, "So I suppose I'm confined to this room eh?"

"For now anyway," Blaise replied as he stood up, "But you have the house elves if you need anything."

Draco scowled, "I think I know how to be cared for in my own home Zabini. But do me a favor, get the elves out of here."

Blaise raised a skeptical eyebrow, "I know you don't like them Malfoy, but you can't be alone, Healer Green's orders."

Draco's scowl deepened, "Tell them to get Weasley then," He said after a moment of thought.

"You want _her_, to watch over _you_, when you're sick and can take a turn for the worse at any time?"

"Really Zabini, I do cherish these pep talks of ours. But don't worry, I can handle Weasley."

Blaise studied Draco for a moment, before calling one of the elves. After telling him to fetch the Weasley girl, and ordering another elf to tidy up the room and bring Draco his wand, he bid Draco goodbye.

Just as Blaise reached the door, she entered.

Draco had forgotten how beautiful she was, even though he had seen her all but three days ago.

But she seemed different, paler than usual, her face hollowed. She seemed weaker. Broken even. What was the cause of this? Was it his torturing? Possibly. But there was more to it. Utter despair.

Her eyes met his and he shuddered. Her dark eyes were stone. Never before had he seen them so lifeless, so cold. And she was angry with him. She loathed him.

Usually, Draco would not give a damn, but now he was vulnerable. And she frightened him. The look in her eyes. He silently thanked Blaise for remembering to get his wand.

Though he knew it wouldn't be as useful in his left arm. Curse that bloody Order member who had injured him. And then with a sudden jolt, he remembered the whole reason he had gotten distracted and injured.

The Auror.

He needed to tell Blaise. But not now. No. When they would be alone he would tell him and Theodore. Then together, they would figure out a plan.

He was knocked out of his current daze by Blaise's voice.

"That outfit really suits you Weasley. Highlights you're, eh, assets."

Ginny did not answer. She simply gazed at Blaise's with a blank look in her eyes.

Draco scowled again. "Don't you have a meeting to get to Zabini?"

Blaise smirked, his eyes traveling between the red head and the blonde on the sofa. "Yes," He replied, "I must be off. Good day to you. And mate," He turned to Draco once more, "Get some sleep."

Draco nodded stiffly, and with that, his best mate was gone.

Ginny took a few slow steps toward Draco. "You needed something Sir?" She said her voice dull and hollow.

What was wrong with her?

Draco cleared his throat and repositioned himself on the cushions. "Yes, well as you can see I'm not in the best state, and I need someone to watch and make sure I take my potions and all that," He coughed.

She nodded.

"So," He coughed again, "Did you manage to take care of all your tasks lately?" Another cough.

She nodded again.

"Good," He replied and coughed once more. It then turned into a coughing fit, and soon he was gasping for air.

She simply stood there.

His eyes were watering, and he glanced around the coffee table searching, searching and… finding.

A cough potion. Perfect.

"Weasley," He panted, "Hand me that blue potion."

She just continued to stand there, while he coughed and coughed. The table was too far away for him to reach. And every racking cough shot pain through his body.

Bloody hell.

"Weasley please!" He gasped.

Her eyes narrowed, "If I give you that potion, you'll be perfectly fine, won't you?"

He nodded shakily, his cough continuing.

"Why should you deserve to be fine? You're a horrible person. Suffer a bit." She said coldly, her voice ice.

"Please!" He begged. He could not believe he was begging her, but he couldn't breathe.

Her eyes softened for a moment. She walked slowly, and lifted the blue bottle, holding it gently. Finally, she handed it to him.

He grabbed it quickly, and downed it in two sips.

It immediately took affect. His coughing ceased, and his breathing eased. He breathed in deeply and stared at her wide eyed.

"I could have died." He stated.

"Well, you did turn this awful shade of purple," She stated with a small shrug of her shoulders.

"What happened to you?"

"What did you expect," She hissed, "That I'd welcome you home with a smile and a plate of cookies?"

"Is this about the night I questioned you?" He asked carefully, gripping his wand tightly in his left palm.

She blinked. "You don't know?"

"Know what? In case you haven't noticed Weasley, I've kind of been out it for a few days."

She pursed her lips. "You've only been out through the night."

He scowled. He seemed to be doing that a lot today. "Details," He said casually, "What don't I know? What is wrong with you?"

"Never mind Malfoy, it's none of your business."

"You are my servant. I decide what my business is or isn't." He said stubbornly.

She gazed at him blankly. "Did you need anything else Sir? Or may I go now?" She asked dully, changing the subject.

He longed to throw the empty potion bottle he was holding at her head. Instead he took a deep breath, collecting himself.

"Tell me what's going on Weasley, or I swear to god I'll force it out of you." He said slowly, dangerously.

Her eyes traveled along his crumpled form. A shadow of a smirk appeared on her lips. "That seems highly unlikely in you're state." She finally said, her voice full of contempt.

Oh, she was loving this. Bloody bint.

His sneered, and pulled out his wand, pointing it directly at her abdomen.

She took a step back in surprise.

"Forgot you're place didn't you?" He spit venomously. He was in no mood for her games.

The look she gave him was so full of hate, he swore that for a second, he had seen a red spark in her eyes.

"Tell me what the fuck is going on!" He demanded.

"It has nothing to do with you, so leave me the fuck alone." She hissed, her tone chilling.

"Everything that concerns you has something to do with me!" He shouted, and at once realized his mistake.

She looked taken aback. He cleared his throat. "You are my servant, and therefore my responsibility." He added, trying to make his previous statement sound different.

She blinked again, sliding back into her dull mask. A mask which it seemed she had learned from him.

She did not reply.

He was growing extremely impatient. "Tell me what the fuck is going on Weasley!" Red sparks flew out of his wand, causing her to leap back, and her shoes caught in the carpet. She fell.

Immediately, he regretted his temper. He didn't even know why it was so important for him to know what was bothering her, but he could not stand seeing her like this. So cold and indifferent.

She did not move from the floor. She sat there, breathing slowly, gazing at his wand.

He cleared his throat nervously. "Are you alright?" He asked carefully. He didn't know why he cared.

Her eyes moved from his wand to his face, and they met his. Hers were wide, and filled with tears.

Draco swallowed. She was about to cry. Ginerva Weasley. He'd never thought he'd see the day. She had never shed a tear once near him. Even when tortured. She always seemed so strong.

And now she looked… shattered.

Her lower lip was trembling, and the tears were falling freely now. They were simply staring at each other. Grey met brown.

She was crying, he was shocked. The silence was heavy, full of words neither knew to speak.

And yet, she was the one to finally break it.

"My brother's dead," She whispered so softly, for a moment he was sure he had imagined it.

He swallowed again. Dead? A Weasley? When did this happen? During the battle when he had been injured? Before? By who's hand? And of course, which brother?

He wanted to ask, but he could not. He did not know what to say or how to say anything to her, without bringing on more tears.

She closed her eyes, taking a long shaky breath, her tears still falling on her pale cheeks. "Charlie," She continued, "He died during a battle, about a week ago."

Charlie Weasley. Draco had never met him, but he had heard stories. The second eldest Weasley. A great Quidditch player. Worked with dragons in Romania. Was an outstanding dueler and a prized Order member.

Now dead.

And Weasley was a wreck. Understandable. But still, he could not grasp how this strong spitfire was now put out, crying on his oriental rug.

The world was an odd place.

She continued to sit there on the floor, silent tears streaming, and he continued to stare at her, contemplating what to say.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "Take the rest of the day off Weasley, just send up a house elf," He said in a gentle tone. He actually felt pity for her! He wanted to slap himself, but more importantly get her far away, where he could not feel bad for her.

She blinked, her lips parting as his words sunk in. Then her eyes narrowed and in a flash she was standing, all previous tears gone, her mouth twisted in an unfamiliar sneer.

"I don't need pity Malfoy, especially not from you." She spat venomously.

He glared at her. "I don't pity the likes of you Weasley," He sneered, "I'm simply trying to be nice, since you look like you could use it."

She scoffed, "You're such a bad liar Malfoy."

He raised a taunting eyebrow, "Oh am I? Miss 'I lost my virginity to Potter but not really and I'm just pathetic enough to lie about it?"

She blinked in surprise for a moment, and then her eyes narrowed once more. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"I don't know but you just proved you were lying about that," He replied nonchalantly.

"You are infuriating Draco Malfoy!" She exclaimed, and stomped her foot.

He smirked, "I try love."

She pursed her lips, "You know, I could probably just kill you right now."

He shrugged, "Probably, but Zabini knows you were the only one here. Then you'd killed for killing a Malfoy."

"Not if I take your wand after killing you and break out of here, and I'll hide somewhere where you're pals will never find me." She countered.

He smirked, "You don't have the guts to kill me."

"Oh, just try me."

He eyed her slowly. Her expression was daring, if not a little mischievous. There was color back in her cheeks. The only reminders of her previous breakdown were in her sad eyes and her tear stained cheeks. He loved that he had managed to distract her from her mourning, if only for a while.

Although previously, the thought of her breaking down and her fire diminishing humored him, but once it had actually happened, he could not stand the sight. He had always despised seeing girls cry, but Weasley was the worst. He could not help but wanting to make her stop crying, to bring her back to her stubborn annoying self. And he had succeeded for the time being. It pleased him, so he decided to continue his distraction.

He loosened his grip on his wand and held it out to her. "Go on then," He encouraged her, as her eyebrows shot up skeptically. "Take my wand. Do it Weasley."

She looked at him incredulously, but stepped forward timidly, and stretched out her hand, her fingers itching for the feel of a wand. But then suddenly, she snatched her hand back. "Like hell I'm going to take you're wand Malfoy. I'll just get tortured for it when you aren't all loopy from all the potions."

He smirked. "Normally, that would be the case. But I'm curious you see. Do you really have it in you, to hurt me? Kill me?"

Her eyes narrowed, "I think you'd be surprised of what I'm capable of."

He believed her. Yet he continued his actions, trying to get her to take his wand, he wanted to see what Ginny Weasley truly was made of.

"Take it. Go on, you must miss having a wand. The feel of the magic coursing through your veins, the power of it. I'm giving you permission. Take it."

She hesitated for another moment before snatching the wand so quickly, he had barely seen her move her hand.

Her fingers traveled over the wand, her eyes examining it carefully. Her lips curved up slightly, her eyes which had been completely cold now held some warmth.

He could not help but feel slightly nervous now. His wand, in the hands of another, someone who clearly hated him, and he was virtually defenseless. He felt like a complete prat. What was he thinking? Offering his wand over to a girl who had every reason to despise him and wish him harm? Not only that, but she was emotionally unstable after all the horrors she had suffered during this war. And he, he handed her his wand!

He wasn't sure what made him do it. He really wasn't. But now, he regretted it with all his heart.

She bit her lip and looked up at him, her eyes large and bewildered. "Why on earth would you hand me you're wand?"

"I don't know," He admitted.

She looked back down at the wand, then back at him. Her arm shook slightly as she pointed it at him.

"Stupid thing to do."

"Yes," He replied evenly.

"I want my own wand," She stated.

"You must be joking." He said, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I hardly think you're in any position to be disagreeing with me."

He gazed up at her, taking in her determined expression. She was serious. What the bloody hell had he done? He kicked himself mentally for what seemed the thousandth time.

He considered his options carefully before answering. "Alright Weasley, you'll get a wand," He paused noticing her eyes widen in surprise, "But it will be blocked, as in you won't be able to use any spells that can harm anyone, or help you leave the Manor."

She pursed her lips, "How do I know you'll follow through?"

"Because I will give you my word," He answered simply.

Ginny gave a hollow chuckle, "I'm supposed to trust _your_ word?"

He looked into her dark eyes seriously, "Yes," He replied.

Her eyes seemed to bore holes in his face with the intensity of her gaze. It took another moment before she lowered his wand and gently set it on the small table. "Alright then," She replied, a shadow of a smile gracing her lips.

And then she turned on her heel and left the room, leaving Draco completely confused about the day's events. He scratched the back of his head, and then let it fall back against the pillow. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

Women were a mystery.

* * *

_**Acceptance**_

"Just do it."

"No, it's foul."

"You are such a baby."

"I am not!"

Ginny glared at the stubborn man before her.

Draco Malfoy was being exceptionally difficult today. She wanted to stab him with the teaspoon she was holding.

"Malfoy, just take the bloody potion already!" Ginny growled at him.

He scowled, "Don't you dare think you can order me around Weasley. You're still _my _servant."

She huffed, "You're impossible! First you make me take care of you for the past three weeks, in charge of your bloody health, and now you won't take this last potion that will make you heal, finally?" She raved, arms flailing in exasperation.

He smirked, "Exactly."

"I swear to God I'm about to murder you with this spoon."

"That wouldn't be very wise of you," He stated coolly.

"No I suppose not," She frowned, "But it would make me feel better."

He just raised a pale eyebrow.

She rubbed her temples in frustration. All she needed was to get him to take this one last potion, and by tomorrow he would be fully healed.

It had been three incredibly long and challenging weeks. She was exhausted. Draco was incredibly whiny and needy after his injury, and as she was being forced to care for him, it all landed on her shoulders.

On the other hand, it did provide her a wonderful distraction from grieving, and she could honestly admit, it was getting easier to forget the pain. Of course, she would never heal from it entirely, but it was becoming easier everyday to think about her brother without breaking down. During this period, when she was forced to spend an excessive amount of time with Malfoy, she had gotten to see many sides of him.

He was less guarded now, and she had witnessed the more vulnerable sides of him. Not that he'd ever admit it. Other than his arrogant, selfish, obnoxious self, she had witnessed him scared, in pain, truthful and then there were those few memorable talks they shared that had been like speaking to an actual friend.

They had been odd, and usually when he was slightly out of it due to his potions, but they had been interesting. They had shared stories of their childhoods, first kiss memories, bad relationship experiences… In those talks she could practically forget where she was and who she was speaking with.

She knew the moment he made his recovery, that would be over, and she could go back to hating him completely, just like before. But as of the moment, she could not bring herself to loathe him like before. He still annoyed her extremely, and she wanted to punch him often, but she did not hate him.

Something had changed between them after he had given her a wand. It had been two days after she first began taking care of him. After her breakdown. He had sent for a wand maker, one who Ginny had never heard of, but she had hardly expected Ollivander to be showing up.

The man was unpleasant, but he was quick, and good at what he did. He came with a large supply of wands, beautiful, all different. He had taken measurements quickly, efficiently and in seconds he had placed a wand in her hand. It was a match from the start. 10 inches, cherry, with unicorn hair at the core. It was not like her previous wand, which she missed very much still, but it was incredible all the same.

She had been surprised that Draco had actually kept his word, and that was where her hatred for him had dissolved slightly. Of course, the wand was blocked, limiting the spells she could use, to mostly ones that would help her with her daily tasks. She had not expected more. But still it was a wand and she could not complain.

After that, things had gotten, lighter, between them. Of course there was still extreme dislike, fighting, contempt from him, fury from her. But there was something less hostile there. Some sort of understanding.

His voice shook her out of her dwellings, "Weasley, you do realize you are _sitting_ on _my _armchair?"

She shot him a glare, "If you would just take you're bloody potion I will leave and you won't have to worry about my sitting on your precious chair." Nonetheless, she stood up.

He smirked, appraising her. "Look at you Weasley, all obedient."

She scowled at him. "Don't test me Malfoy."

"Oh," He laughed, "Testy are we?"

"Yes," She growled, "After _you_ kept me up all night."

"I know lots of ways that I can keep you up all night," He said waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Ginny's patience had run out. With a quick running step she pounced on top of the unsuspecting Draco, grabbing his flailing arms and pinning them with one of hers.

He stared at her bewildered.

"Six brothers," She said simply in answer to his shocked stare.

He blinked twice, and then suddenly smirked. "You know, if you wanted to straddle me so much Weasley, you could have just asked."

Ginny's eyes narrowed, "Just shut up, and open your mouth wide. You're taking this potion whether you want to or not."

His eyes narrowed, "I don't want too!" He whined, and began thrashing, trying to get the persistent red head off of him.

"Stop struggling," She growled, and held on to his arms tighter, while her arms darted around the room, trying to find something to restrain the writhing blonde.

She smiled when she saw it. On the small coffee table in front of her was a thin rope that had previously held closed the leather pouch that had held some of the potion vials. Quickly, with her leftover quidditch reflexes, she snatched the rope and tied it skillfully around Draco's wrists, tying them to the couches arm rest.

She grinned smugly at his outraged expression.

"The only reason you have the upper hand here Weasley is that I am fuzzy from these potions, and I'm injured." He said with an indignant huff.

"Probably," She admitted with a shrug, "But if you would just stop being a child and take the potion than you won't be injured anymore."

"Fine," He said finally with a slight pout.

Ginny scoffed and poured the potion dosage on the spoon.

Draco glared at her, and opened his mouth. She put the spoon in his mouth, and he clamped his lips tight around it.

Satisfied, she got off him swiftly and dusted herself off.

"There," She smirked, "Now you can stop acting like a whiney brat."

"Untie me Weasel," He commanded talking through the spoon.

She eyed his restrained palms and the spoon. Her smirk deepened. "I don't think I will Malfoy. You've put me through even more hell than usual these past three weeks. I'll see you in a few hours." And with that, she spun on her heel and left the room, for once feeling triumphant.

He called after her, but she continued on, ignoring him completely and giggling to herself the whole way. Oh, she knew she would get hell for it later, but she couldn't bring herself to really care.

It felt good to laugh, especially as it was in Draco's expense.

The past month had affected her deeply. Every morning waking up and remembering her brother's death had felt like a thousand knifes to her heart.

It was hard to imagine a world without Charlie. He would never be there for another family dinner, Christmas, weddings… But then she started to realize that that had been the case for a while. Even before the war had begun, which in itself was a reason for tearing families apart, Charlie had been living in Romania and she had barely gotten to see him. Sure, he came over once in a while, but with the Weasley's, money had always been an issue, so visiting him was difficult, and he had been working.

In truth, she had seen Charlie more after joining the Order than she had before the war. It was sad to know that was what had brought them closer, but this was a fact. Yet, they had gotten extremely close, and now with him gone, it was hard to imagine how to continue.

But here she was, a month later, and slowly the pain was dimming. When she was laughing, or mocking, or even angry at Draco Malfoy, it provided a wonderful distraction from the hurt.

She fleetingly wondered how she would continue to cope without taking care of him as a distraction. Then she decided not to dwell on it, and instead now that she had free time, she would continue to plan her escape from the Manor.

In the short periods when she hadn't been occupied with nursing the great ferret back to health, she had been carefully plotting an escape from hell, or Malfoy Manor, as some preferred to call it.

She had been getting reacquainted with the use of the wand, and figuring out ways to use it in her aid to escape, even though it was mostly only good for basic spells and household ones. It was actually coming along nicely. She was even close to finally figuring out where the dungeons were, and she felt in her gut that that was her key to get out of the gigantic prison.

With a sigh, she entered her small bedroom, and flopped on to the cot, suddenly exhausted.

She heard something crinkle under her, and looked to see it was an opened envelope, addressed to her, with a letter tucked inside.

Her throat suddenly went dry and her stomach flopped. Another letter? It could not be of good news. Was someone else dear to her lost? And why was it opened?

Attached to the envelope was a small piece of parchment, written in neat scrawl.

_Weasley, _

_You have received this letter from the Ministry, which apparently belonged to you're brother. Seeing as he was an enemy to the Ministry they righteously had to check it for any concealed magic. It was addressed to you. I opened it to check it myself for any tricks. It must be your lucky day. _

_L. Malfoy_

She could not help but feel a small sweep of relief upon knowing that no one else in her family was dead, or hurt. And then she felt a rising anger, for Lucius Malfoy.

How she despised him. The only perk of the Manor's ludicrous size was that she rarely crossed path with the elder Malfoy's. How dare he read her letter? After it had even been screened at the Ministry? He was vile and cruel. She took a deep breath to relax herself, trying not to think about the eldest Malfoy.

Carefully, she removed Charlie's letter from the envelope, sighing when she saw the familiar messy script.

_To my dearest little sister Ginger_

She smiled at the old nickname.

_I am writing you this letter now, for your twentieth birthday, because I probably won't be able to enjoy it with you._

Tears welled in her eyes. Her birthday was another month from now. She would not likely be celebrating with anyone she loved, or celebrating at all. And she would never be able to celebrate with Charlie again.

_It sucks that with this stupid bloody war, everyone is always busy with the Order, and we don't see each other much, especially since your still in 'Phoenix' and we are all in 'Fawkes'. (Don't get mad Ginger, you'll be here with all of us soon I hope. You kick arse, and they all know you're the best out there.) _

_I've seen you grow so much in these past years, even though I couldn't be there all the time, something I regret, and you have truly become one of the most amazing people I have met. _

_Well I mean, with a brother like me, how could you not eh? _

Ginny laughed, although it was slightly choked by her sobs.

_No but seriously Gin-Gin, we (the whole family, and anyone who knows you really) are so lucky to have such an incredible person in our lives. You keep us strong and united, you are focused and hard working, loving, caring and we know you would always have our backs (which of course applies the other way around, I'm always here for you)__._

_I want to wish you the best of birthdays in case I won't be able to do it in person. Have fun, enjoy the good things, remember not to lose your temper on people who aren't worth it, and please if you MUST date make sure they know that they'll have to go through me if they EVER make you cry._

_I love you baby sister, have the most wonderful of birthdays._

_Lots of love, _

_Charlie_

_P.S. Make sure to save me a slice of cake! _

She could not control her tears, or the racking sobs that shook her. She did not think this letter would make her react this strongly. She thought she was beginning to heal.

It seemed that acceptance was not that easily achieved after all.

* * *

**_A/N- So like I said, this chapter was incredibly diffucult to write, and it's probably not my best, but I really hope you enjoyed it, and please please please REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! XOXOXOXOXOX_**


	6. Eyes on Fire

_**A/N- Damn, so it's been a while, and I have been feeling so guilty for not posting a new chapter in so long! I was constantly busy, and even when I had a moment to spare, I admit I was completely uninspired. Writer's block is a pain, but a part of life**__**. Anyway to my lovely readers, here it is chapter six. Can not say I'm very happy with it, but it was needed to move the story along. Hope you enjoy!**_

**_*xxxfire-feariexxx- Concerning you're question, all I can say is that all will be revealed... Eventually... (: _**

* * *

_I won't soothe your pain__  
__I won't ease your strain__  
__You'll be waiting in vain__  
__I got nothing for you to gain_

_I'm taking it slow__  
__Feeding my flame__  
__Shuffling the cards of your game__  
__And just in time__  
__In the right place__  
__Suddenly I will play my ace- Eyes on Fire, by Blue Foundation_

* * *

The change in him was evident.

The color was back in his cheeks, his hair was sleek and shiny once more, his posture perfect.

Yet he was tense.

Nervous? Anxious? Upset? She could not place it. He was pacing in front of the fire, arms running through his hair, muttering to himself quietly.

He had woken that morning, good as new. Fully healed, up on his feet, no longer in need of assistance whatsoever.

On one hand, Ginny was glad. It had been extremely difficult caring for Draco. He was whiny and needy and stubborn. It had been exhausting.

On the other hand, she couldn't help but be slightly saddened by his renewed state. As maddening as he had been injured, he had been different from his usual self. She assumed it was the potions mostly, but he had been so much more laidback and relaxed, carefree.

They had even managed to have actual conversations, without insulting each other. He had been almost like a friend. It made Malfoy Manor the tiniest bit less dreadful.

But now he was back, and apparently, he had barely any memory of his weeks in his injured state.

He would not recall giving her a wand, or the slight breaking of walls that had occurred between the two. Their intellectual and stimulating conversations. Even the jokes they had shared.

It would be back to hateful glaring, sneering, smirks and criticism.

Ginny cringed at the thought.

When she woke that morning, she had been expecting to be summoned by him, but that was not the case. She was woken, given a task list for everywhere in the Manor but his quarters, given her dinner and sent to her room.

Suddenly though, just a half an hour after being sent to sleep for the night, she had been summoned by him to his rooms.

She couldn't help but be curious about the urgency of it. The house elf that had sent for her had pressed that there was no time for dawdling. She had dressed quickly into her uniform, and hurried to go see the youngest Malfoy. The last time she had been rushed to his rooms this late, it had ended up as a night of horrible and excruciating pain. She wasn't exactly excited.

The door had been left half open, which was highly unusual. She had been about to knock, but than she had noticed him, pacing in a frazzled state.

After about a minute of staring at him, pondering the cause of his odd behavior, she finally took a deep breath and knocked, ready to face the music. Whatever he needed from her, it could not be worse than the pain she was still suffering on the inside. Her wounds had not healed yet.

He instantly stopped pacing, straightening even more, although that hardly seemed possible. He turned sharply, his face creased in worry lines. Upon noticing her standing carefully in the doorway, his expression smoothed, returning to his calm collected mask.

Oh, he was back all right. Bloody bugger.

"How long have you been standing there?" He asked calmly.

Ginny knew that now was a time to lie. Obviously he was concerned with her seeing him in his anxious state. It wouldn't do any good to aggravate him at the moment.

"Just now," She replied quietly, looking him straight in the eye.

A small flash of relief shone in his steely gaze, and a small smirk appeared on his lips. "Well don't just stand there Weasley, come in. I did call you here for a reason you know."

She sighed, and stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

He gazed at her for a moment, his expression unreadable.

She shifted her weight, feeling self-conscious under his gaze. What did he want? Would it be something simple? Would he question and torture her again? She really didn't know if she would be able to keep up feigning ignorance as before.

Finally, he spoke, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "First of all Weasley, I just wanted to thank you."

She blinked, taken aback. "Sorry?" Surely, she had heard him wrong.

He chuckled, "Thank you Weasley. For taking care of me when I was injured, and fully drugged from those potions."

She was stunned. Draco Malfoy had just thanked her. It seemed impossible, unreal. She gawked at him for a moment before composing herself.

She sniffed, "Well, it's not like I had much of a choice in the matter, did I?"

He shrugged, "No, not really. But you did take good care of me, even my _mother_ admits it. And that is an achievement."

Ginny couldn't help but snort at the truth of that statement. Then there was another awkward pause. He was staring again.

"What are you bloody staring at?" She exclaimed. His gaze made her feel awkward, and small.

His smirk grew, "I might have thanked you Weasley but you should still remember you are my servant, and I am you master. You shall treat me as such."

She pursed her lips, but did not say what she was itching to say. She'd be cursed for it far too much.

"Good," He continued, "And I was simply noticing that you've gotten far too thin lately."

"Yes well, that tends to happen when you spend three weeks caring for someone constantly, every second of the day. Doesn't leave much time for eating you know." She replied casually.

He shook his head, "You and that sharp tongue of yours Weasley. It's going to get you into some serious trouble one day."

She shrugged, "I always seem to be in trouble somehow."

"That's my point," He frowned slightly, then turned away from her, staring into the fire once more.

"I admit," He continued, "I didn't call you here just for pleasantries."

He paused and turned to face her once more. Silver bore into chocolate. "You see, I have guests coming over soon. Just Zabini and Nott, but I would like you to go down to the grounds, and bring them here, as silently as possible. I mean it Weasley, you cannot be seen by anyone, even the houselves. Am I clear?"

His tone was incredibly serious His cold gaze was unforgiving, and she knew if she failed, the consequences would be more than severe.

"Yes," She finally replied.

A small smile graced his lips. "Good girl. Now I want you to take this," He paused and handed her a shimmering cloak, "It's an invisibility cloak. You are to use it at all times, understood?" He paused again, and she nodded.

It wasn't really surprising, Malfoy possessing an invisibility cloak. He was rich enough to have dozens, and yet, she could not but help feeling a little satisfied that it was no where near as infallible as Harry's.

"You will be greeting them at the gates of the Manor," He continued, "Where you will be giving _them_ the cloak. The three of you won't fit. They will cast a concealment charm on you, which should be enough to keep you all hidden. But you will need to make sure no one sees you! It is crucial!"

She swallowed nervously.

Draco took a deep breath, "All right then. Go now, they should arrive soon."

She turned to leave, but he called out to her again.

"And Weasley, I would just like to warn you, do not try anything funny. I will know, and I will not be pleased."

She nodded for the final time before slipping the cloak on and exiting the room swiftly.

Ginny was utterly baffled.

What was going on? Why were Zabini and Nott coming over so late at night? Why was it supposed to be such a secret meeting? The pair had always been welcome at the Manor as if they were living there themselves.

Obviously, something was wrong. Very wrong.

Had, for some reason, Blaise and Theodore been shunned from the Death Eaters? No, she would have known about it, and from what she has heard, they were prized members.

Then what? What were those three hiding?

She couldn't help but be extremely curious. She walked down the long corridors of Malfoy Manor, tired, confused, and yet slightly… invigorated.

It felt good to be doing something active. Something secretive. Dangerous even. She missed the rush of her missions in the Order. Biting her lip as the pang of sadness filled her once more, she had finally reached the grand entrance doors of the Manor. This part was going to be slightly tricky.

The large oak doors were heavy and old, therefore they caused much noise to open them, and even more upon closing them.

She supposed she could try a silencing charm, but she wasn't sure it would work, or be powerful enough with her 'wand'. But it was worth a shot.

She carefully slid her wand out her apron pocket, and whispered the charm as silently as possible. Deciding to test her magic before making a fatal mistake, she knocked on the door lightly.

Silence.

She grinned at her small success. It always felt so good to perform a spell, and have it work, especially with a blocked wand. Quietly and swiftly, she tugged hard and opened the heavy door, exiting and closing it gently behind her. A rush of cold air hit her, and her breath caught in her throat.

She was out.

Outside the walls of Malfoy Manor. And it had been so…easy.

Her first instinct was just to start running. To run, as fast as she could, gain as much distance as possible from the Manor, until Draco noticed something was amiss. Hopefully by then, she would be far enough away and they wouldn't find her.

It was a marvelous thought, but it died almost instantly. He had warned her, and as much as she didn't want to admit it, Malfoy was no fool.

Surely, he would know she would be tempted to run, and surely, he had taken precautions to ensure that she would not succeed. If she were to even try and obviously fail, he would know, and she would be punished. Badly.

It wasn't worth the risk, and with a heavy heart, Ginny walked briskly and carefully towards the Manor's gates.

Where had all her rash, Gryffindor courage gone? A few months back, she would have been outside the gates already, running for freedom at full speed.

But now, she barely did anything before calculating all possible outcomes before hand.

It seemed, that after spending so much time with Slytherins, she had started to think like one. And she had to admit, if she were ever going to escape, she would have to continue to calculate her every move, be sneaky, and worry about herself before all others. It was the only way.

Another wave as sadness washed over her at this realization, and her eyes prickled with moisture. She sniffed in annoyance and hastily wiped her tears. She had never been so dramatic before, and she was tired of it. Yet it just seemed to catch up to her every time she was least expecting it.

Finally arriving at the gates, she noticed the two tall hooded figures standing there, absolutely still and silent. If she had been simply taking a walk, she would have been incredibly frightened at the sight. But knowing that it was only Zabini and Nott, she felt relaxed.

Although the two were just as dangerous as any Death Eater, she could not help but feel comfortable by their presence. Perhaps it was because when it was only they and Draco together, they merely seemed like ordinary boys, joking around.

The gate was locked. That much was obvious, and certainly, charms were placed upon it to keep anyone from entering, or in her case, leaving. She needed to be careful with this next part. It couldn't possibly be as simple as opening the front door could it? But wouldn't have Draco at least warned her, so she would not trigger any alarms?

She was confused, and not sure how to perform her next task. It annoyed her. Her anger at Draco began to bubble up once more. What was he even thinking, sending her to do this? If it was such a secretive mission, than surely, he could do it himself.

Perhaps it was a test of some sort? She was utterly baffled, and let out a sigh of frustration.

One of the figures suddenly cleared his throat, causing Ginny to jump.

"It's about time you got here Weasley, I swear Nott here was about to wet his pants in terror." It was Blaise who spoke, and Ginny could just picture the smirk plastered on his face.

She couldn't help but grin, and she removed the cloak swiftly. She had gotten accustomed to the two men. During Draco's recovery, they had come to visit him quite often. They had added some comedy to the dreary Manor, and they had a tendency to treat Ginny less like a servant and more like a friend. Of course there was a limit to that friendship, but she would take what she could get.

Theodore snarled, "You jumped at the sight of that peacock just as much as I did."

That shut Blaise right up.

"Honestly," Ginny guffawed, "You two, frightened of peacocks? Now that's just information that will keep me amused for the rest of my life."

Blaise winked at her, "I could find plenty of ways to keep you amused for the rest of your life."

She shrugged, "Yeah, the sight of you're face everyday would be enough."

Theodore smirked, "She has a good point mate. It's enough for me."

"Weasley I think its time you let us in, before I throttle Nott."

"I don't know how," she replied simply.

Theodore scoffed," Typical Malfoy, sends you out without any useful directions. Just tap the gate with your wand. Then just say our names, full names mind you, and it'll open."

She followed his directions, and the iron gates slowly and quietly opened. She stepped aside to let the pair through.

"Now hand me the cloak," Blaise said.

She did, and immediately the two huddled and threw it over themselves. They disappeared before her eyes, and suddenly she felt quite exposed and alone.

A second later, and she felt the odd sensation of eggs rippling down her head, and she knew she was nearly invisible as well. A sigh of relief escaped her. She had felt oddly vulnerable for a moment.

"Let's get a move on then," Theodore said quietly, and they began heading back to the Manor.

She did not know how they accomplished the feat of walking in absolute silence, without even the sound of the gravel crunching underneath their feet. It was eerie, and in a sense Ginny did not even feel as if she was walking at all. But so it was, and they reached the large doors in no time at all.

After placing another silencing charm on the doors, just in case, she tugged them open, and entered first. She waited a moment for the boys to enter, and she presumed it was them who closed the doors after entering.

After a small poke on her arm from one of the two, she continued walking silently through the large halls of the Manor. She honestly did not know what was the reason for these pointless, seemingly endless halls. Her only guess was that possibly the Malfoy's had some particular fancy in storming hallways for no reason at all.

Chuckling to herself at the mental image of Lucius Malfoy pacing the halls back and forth as a form of enjoyment, she opened the doors leading to the youngest Malfoy's rooms, waiting a few seconds for the pair to enter after her before closing them again.

Said Malfoy was apparently still standing by the fire, and he turned sharply at the sound of the closing door.

Blaise and Theodore removed the cloak, and a smirk graced Draco's face.

"Took you long enough, I was sure that Weasley had somehow screwed up."

Ginny cleared her throat in annoyance.

Draco chuckled, and Blaise and Theodore smirked appreciatively. Draco cast a quick spell, and Ginny felt the odd rippling sensation once more. She was visible again.

She glared at Draco, "I did it as quickly as I could, no thanks to your lack of directions."

The blonde smirked, "I'm sure you were simply chatting it up with my mates more than anything. But good on you Weasley, you all arrived in one piece. You may go now."

She huffed irritably, "I'd tell you to go fuck yourself Malfoy, but I have a feeling you do it anyway. Goodnight." She turned to leave and started toward the door when she was stopped by Draco's condescending tone.

"What was that _slave_?"

She took a deep breath to collect her anger, and turned to face him with a sickly sweet smile. "I'm sorry _sir_," she drawled, "I shouldn't comment on your sexual tendencies, it's rude of me. Enjoy your evening gentleman."

She turned once more, a small smirk taking place over her features.

"It would be much more enjoyable if you stayed Weasley," Theodore added as she turned the doorknob.

"Probably," She replied over her shoulder, and with that she exited, hearing low chuckles from the three before closing the door behind her.

Her full intention was to return to bed, but Draco's voice stopped her once more.

He was addressing his counterparts, and they obviously hadn't placed any silencing spells yet because standing by the door she could hear him loud enough.

"And now to business. We have a serious problem on our hands." His tone had lost all it's previous teasing, and was completely stern and serious.

Ginny's natural curiosity guided her and she placed her ear against the door.

"Yeah mate, it sounded really urgent. What is it?" Blaise asked carefully.

"One moment," Draco paused and footsteps were heard.

He suddenly flung the door open, causing her to stumble back as his eyes narrowed at her. "Go to bed Weasley, and that's an order." His tone was cold, leaving no room for argument.

Having lost her balance slightly, and not expecting to have gotten caught, Ginny nodded immediately and started walking swiftly to her room, slightly disappointed. She heard Draco sigh behind her and close the door, which she knew he would now definitely place silencing charms upon.

She walked quickly, exhaustion falling upon her. Arriving at her room, she went through her nightly routine, and fell into bed, only then allowing thoughts of the strange evening to overcome her.

What was so urgent? Why did Blaise and Theodore have to come in secret? At this late hour? And most importantly, why on earth did Draco have such disturbing mood swings?

Honestly he was worse than her during her time of the month.

And that was saying something.

* * *

"How is this possible?" Blaise exclaimed, springing from his previous seat.

Draco ran his hand through his hair for what felt like the thousandth time that night. He was pacing again, after finally sharing his story of the battle with his comrades.

"Why haven't you told us until now?" Theodore yelled, the anxiety clear on his face.

Draco turned sharply to face him, his stare hard. "When have we had any moments alone since my injury?" He pointed out sharply, "Someone was always here. Whether it was my family, or my servants, or Weasley. I had to wait until they would leave me alone."

Theodore considered him for a moment, "You could have sent us a letter!" He finally blubbered.

Draco scoffed, "I rather doubt that it is proper for matters as these to be discussed in a _letter_ Nott. Some common sense would be handy right now. Letters can be intercepted."

Theodore gaped at Draco, opening and closing his mouth several times. It seemed he was at loss for words.

Satisfied that he had understood Draco's reason, Draco continued to pace the room. "Now that that's settled, we need a plan of action. What are we going to do?" He said this out loud, but it seemed the he was asking himself more than anything.

"We must tell the Dark Lord!" Theodore suddenly yelled, pushing his sleeve up, about to press the mark.

"NO!" Blaise roared, and knocked the other man over before he could finish the act.

He grabbed his collar, and looked him carefully in the eye. "Do you want to get us all killed?" Blaise cried. The pair struggled with each other for a bit, but Blaise had the upper hand.

Draco stared at the scene, perplexed. It was odd to see his best friends in such panic, as they were both just as cool and collected as him. It was how they were raised. And this, this was throwing all calm out the window.

Blaise took a deep breath, perhaps noticing Draco's stare, and loosened his grip on Theodore. However he still held on to him as he continued, "How do you think the Dark Lord would react to this?" He hissed, "I highly doubt he would thank us for telling him and send us off with a pat on our heads! We missed something in those woods, something important! I doubt we shall be forgiven."

Blaise finally released the man, and dusted himself off. Theodore swallowed loudly, but seemed to have banished any rash decisions from his mind.

Draco appraised the two before speaking as calmly as possible. "Blaise is right Theo. We have to keep our heads. Any rash decisions on our part can lead only to more trouble. Before we do anything we must know what's going on. What have we missed, what we are up against, and most importantly, what do we do about it."

Theodore nodded, the wild look gone from his eyes. "Yes. Quite right. I lost my head for a moment. We must carefully think of our next move."

Blaise nodded as well, and took a deep breath. "We need to go back to those woods. Search them and the Aurors hide out for any clues."

Draco sighed, "Yes. And most importantly, we must get to the bottom of this quickly. The Dark Lord is no fool. He will suspect something is wrong."

Theodore had a grim look of determination, "We will succeed. We mustn't fail the Dark Lord."

Draco smirked, "Melt down over than Nott?"

Blaise smirked as well, and Theodore scowled, but did not reply.

Draco's smirk grew, "Good. Now it's gotten quite late, if we do not want to raise suspicion, and get a decent night's sleep, you should leave now, and we will plan our trip to Ireland soon."

The pair agreed, and Draco led them back out to the gates swiftly and silently.

After returning to his rooms and crawling into his large four poster bed, he was prepared for sleep to over come him. Yet it did not.

Countless thoughts consumed him, and he tossed and turned until he could stand it no longer. With a huff he threw the covers off himself, and got up. He quickly grabbed his house robe and threw it on over his boxers.

Angered with his insomnia, he stomped across his room, and flung the large doors open. He walked briskly through the halls, not really noticing where his legs were leading him.

He stopped abruptly upon noticing his surroundings. The door in front of him was very simple, not matching the rest of the Manor.

He was in the servants' wing, and in front of Weasley's door. Strange. Suddenly curious, he opened the door gently.

Weasley was fast asleep on her small bed, hair spread about messily, one foot dangling from the bed, hands outstretched above her head, and her mouth agape.

He shook his head, a smirk forming on his lips.

She turned slightly clutching the blankets, and Draco took a step back, in case she had woken. She didn't, only shifted herself to lie on her side.

She groaned, and Draco felt a jolt of arousal. He quickly shook it off, sighing. He needed a good shag, soon.

He hadn't had the opportunity in a while, a fact that was irritating him greatly. Maybe he could call upon Pansy? She was easy enough. No, he wasn't in the mood for Pansy.

The redhead before him shifted again, causing his gaze to return to her.

"No! Not the blueberries!" She suddenly muttered loudly.

Draco snorted. He should document this.

Finally beginning to feel drowsy, he closed the door softly, and turned back towards his rooms. He felt kind of bad for watching her, as if he was spying. Which, to be fair, he was. But she was _his_ servant. Technically, he could do whatever he wanted with her. He could shag her senseless every hour if he desired it. Unbidden images of her writhing underneath him, moaning his name flickered through his mind.

He cursed quietly, willing those thoughts to leave him. She was a Weasley for heavens sake! Albeit, an attractive one, and he had always had a soft spot for good looking women, but a _Weasley_.

He was Draco _Malfoy_, he could easily bed any bint he wanted.

Satisfied with his resolve, he got back into his large bed, now much more comfortable and welcoming than it had been previously.

All thoughts banished from his mind, he drifted off to sleep, finally.

* * *

_**A/N- That's all for now chaps! Like I said, not my favourite chapter, but it was necessary for now, and I promise chapter seven will bring much more action and Draco-Ginny to the plate. Other than that loves, I hope you liked it, and please please please**__** REVIEW as it really is my motivation! Even if you don't like it, constructive criticism helps loads...**_ XOXO 


	7. The Noose

_**A/N- Ok, ok so I know it has been a long time since my last update and I am truly sorry! I feel awful, but things have just been extremely hectic. I have been working on this chapter for a while, and it's long so I do hope that makes up for my lack of updating! I hope you enjoy and of course reviews are much appreciated!**_

**_P.S_**** -I took the chapter down to check for any grammar mistakes and hopefully it's all fixed. On you go...**

* * *

_So glad to see you well  
Overcome and completely silent now  
With heaven's help  
You cast your demons out  
And not to pull your halo down  
Around your neck and tug you off your cloud  
But I'm more than just a little curious  
How you're planning to go about  
Making your amends to the dead  
To the dead- The Noose, by A Perfect Circle  
_

* * *

He sat incredibly still.

His back was straight as a ruler, hands folded on the handsome desk before him. His mouth was twisted into a slight scowl, and his eyes were hard. Had she not known any better, she might have mistaken him for a statue.

Narcissa Malfoy stepped into the room quietly and noiselessly closed the door behind her. She cautiously approached her husband, knowing he was deep in thought and it would be unwise to interrupt him abruptly.

"Lucius," She called gently.

His striking eyes snapped to her, and his demeanor loosened. His scowl had dropped, now replaced with a small smirk, and he patted his lap, urging her over. She smiled and sat, placing her arms around his neck.

"And to what do I owe this pleasure?" He growled slightly.

Narcissa didn't answer at first, and traced her fingertips over the lines of his face. Finally she smirked, "Don't be too excited love. I merely came to tell you that I invited Severus over for dinner this evening."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, "You sneaky witch, you had me going for a moment. Why not send a house elf to tell me this?"

"Like you said I wanted to get you going. I need my own forms of entertainment now and then." She replied shortly, and moved to slide off his lap. His hold on her tightened.

"You know I can't stand a tease Narcissa," He said. His tone was serious but his eyes sparkled mischievously.

She loved his eyes. They were his best feature, because they were the only things that gave away his true emotions. Even then, he was difficult to read, but after their many years of marriage, she could. To all others, Lucius was a master of masks, something he had passed on to his son.

She grinned, "You always say that my darling," She leaned in and kissed him deeply before pulling away and getting to her feet, "Yet you married _me_." With that said she sauntered out of the large study, closing the door firmly behind her.

Lucius chuckled. His wife was one of the only people who could make him smile so easily. But the sharp tap of an owl at the window cut his thoughts of the blonde witch short, a frown falling back in to place.

With a flick of his wand the window opened, and the owl immediately swooped in, dropped a letter on his large desk, and flew back out the open window. Clearly, it was not to wait for a response.

Lucius lifted the letter and turned it over in his hands curiously. It was addressed to him, but he did not recognize the scrawl or the seal, something that was unusual. He opened it easily and his eyes widened as they quickly scanned the parchments contents.

_Mr. Malfoy,_

_You may not have heard of me, my name is Albert Surdmore. I am the newly appointed warden of Azkaban prison. After returning to England to receive this post that the Dark Lord has asked of me, I immediately began to make changes in the prison. These matters of course have no interest to you, and I do not wish to begin explaining them, as they are not the reason for this letter I am writing to you now. The reason I am writing however is that I have found information that may be of use and great importance to you. _

_I was informed that one of our former prisoners, Ginevra Weasley, was released from Azkaban and into your household, sentenced to servitude. As this was a few months before my current post, I have never met the traitor Weasley and do not know much on the matter. I had been told only that she had been of great importance to the Order of the Phoenix, and that her interrogations had proved unsuccessful. _

_A new prisoner had recently been moved in to her old cell, which had led to an interesting discovery. Apparently, one of the stones on the floor had been loose, and prisoners of that cell had been storing items there for centuries. One of our guards had caught the current resident of that cell trying to hide an item, which led to our findings. It seems that Weasley had also happened upon this hiding place, and used it as well. _

_Most of the items we had found were worthless- food that had been saved and wasted, small trinkets inmates had managed to smuggle in… But we also found one thing that may be of interest to you. A small sheet of parchment was found, on it written a letter, addressed to the Weasley girl. _

_I assume she smuggled it in with her, as seeing our prisoners are denied any form of mail. On that note, this letter is addressed to her, but other than her name, it is all written in a sort of secret code that we could not decipher. Therefore, as your family is in possession of the girl, I thought it would be best to tell you of these findings (the letter is attached, see other side of parchment), so you may sort matters out in the best way you see fit. _

_I do not know what the secret letter says, and if it is worth anything or not. But I do believe it must have a connection to the Order of the Phoenix and in such case must be investigated. I have heard how fruitless the interrogations of the girl have proved before, but I truly believe this is something important Mr. Malfoy. I urge you to try and find out, and would be happy to assist interrogation of the girl if you wish so. I have been known to be quite successful in these situations (which I am sure is why I have been promoted so recently). _

_I am not sure how much time and effort this letter will be worth Mr. Malfoy, but I am positive about one thing. The girl knows a lot more than she is letting on, and she is much cleverer than she has been given credit for._

_Good day to you, and good luck. _

_Albert Surdmore_

Lucius finished the letter, eyes narrowed now. He quickly turned it over, looking at the worn looking parchment attached to the back. It was indeed addressed to the youngest Weasley, but other than her name, all of it was in strange letter combinations, words written upside down, letters switched and twisted. It made no sense what so ever.

Lucius's scowl was more prominent than ever. He threw the letter down on his desk and began to pace his large study, thoughts swirling dangerously fast across his mind.

So, the Weasley chit was hiding more secrets eh? He had learned a few months ago, from the day he had met her at Azkaban that she was strong under torture. The former warden had told him that she not once yielded information, and he had seen with his own eyes that she did not submit easily.

She annoyed him from the start. From the first time he had seen her with her family, a small first year in hand-me-down robes. She wasn't even meant to survive that first year! And now here she was, many years later, still a nuisance and a thorn in his side!

He had believed, upon bringing her to work in his home, that it would bring some form of results. A trap for her family, and of course Potter. They would certainly want to save their golden girl, the youngest. Bringing her away from Azkaban, somewhere where they supposedly had a chance to save her, how could they not! But alas, he had underestimated the Order.

They were no longer the foolish small group they had once been. The Order had become so much more established, a huge organization, with nearly as many numbers as the Death Eaters. And he could only guess that it was why a rescue party had not yet arrived at Malfoy Manor. They knew better.

But this, this letter, it could be something important! If Weasley had taken care to keep it safe in Azkaban, it surely had some knowledgeable value. He needed to know what it said. It was crucial!

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It wasn't going to be easy. It definitely seemed the Weasley girl wasn't as stupid as they had thought, not just another brave hero without any brains. He would need use all his cunning, his torturing needed to be more than just brute violence.

He could not do this alone. He would need assistance, but not in the form of Albert Surdmore. He sneered just of the thought. The man may believe himself excellent, and maybe he was, but as the girl was enslaved in his house, his family would take care of the matter.

He stopped pacing, and returned to his most comfortable armchair behind his desk, letter lying before him.

"Heller!" He called loudly, followed by an immediate loud pop as the small house elf arrived, bowing low to his master.

"How may I help Master Malfoy?" He asked in the usual squeak. Lucius could understand why his son despised the creatures, but they had their uses.

"Fetch me Draco, tell him it's urgent," Lucius replied coldly. With another bow and a pop, the elf was gone, leaving Lucius in silence and his thoughts for company once more.

* * *

"Reducto!"

The hairbrush did not even shiver. Ginny Weasley lowered her wand with bitter disappointment.

She held it in her hand, examining it closely. Although it was wonderful to be able to do any form of magic after she had been deprived of it for so long, it was not the same. This blocked wand was fine for any simple household spells, but for anything else, it was completely useless. A stick.

She curled her fists around it tightly, deeply tempted to snap it. Then she took a long deep breath, trying to calm herself. Even if it didn't work properly, she would still need it if she had any hope of escaping. Small amounts of magic were better than no magic.

Still frustrated, but more controlled, she threw the wand on her cot, and returned to the pile of papers on the floor of her small bedroom. She began to sort them into neat piles, dozens of scribbles and blueprints of anything and everything she knew about Malfoy Manor and its inhabitants.

She needed out.

It was no longer simply the burning desire to escape and be free of this hell, no it had become much more than that. In the past week, she had felt a change in the atmosphere. It was more than just a feeling, and she could not explain it. Something big was going to happen, soon. She had no idea what, or how, but she knew with every fiber of her being that she needed to leave as soon as possible.

She had been carefully and slowly, as she was always incredibly busy during the day, planning her escape from the Manor. After countless explorations of the enormous place, she had managed to draw blueprints of the Manor, which were fairly accurate. She had even drawn up a rough schedule of each of the house occupant's days.

The only place she still hadn't managed to find was the dungeons, a fact that irritated her deeply. It wasn't supposed to be too difficult to find bloody dungeons! They were underground! Where else would they be?

And yet, she had found no evidence of any underground dwellings of any kind at the Manor. She knew they had to be there, but she had looked everywhere she could think, and no stairs led farther down than the entrance level. She had not forgotten Twinkie's last word, and was sure the dungeons had something that would aid her, but she could not wait until she would find them.

Danger was coming, and it was nearing time to act.

Soon, she would attempt her plans, and she would be free. Or dead. But now was not a time to be morbid. No, she had to stay focused and hopeful. As much as possible anyway with a faulty wand.

She sent the offensive object a glare, and grabbed the stack of, now, neat papers. She went to her trunk, and folded the papers neatly in the back, under the loose padding of the trunk. It wasn't the best hiding place, but it would have to do for now.

Looking out the window, she was slightly surprised to see night had already fallen, which meant she had been in her room uninterrupted by menial labor for at least an hour. Was it too much to hope for an early night?

The Malfoy's seemed to have a knack for fetching her right before she could fall asleep, or sometimes even during it. The bastards. Just because they could lounge around all day and sleep when they pleased, they expected everyone to follow suit.

Exhausted, Ginny plopped down on to her cot, once again facing the resented wand. With a sudden burst of frustration she grabbed it and began to wave it aimlessly, with a twinge of violence. She jabbed it rather harshly in the direction of a lone spider on the ceiling, all the spells it wouldn't perform swirling in her mind, when suddenly, the spider exploded into a puff of smoke.

She sat up abruptly, staring in wonderment at the gift in her hands. Could it have possibly been released from whatever had kept it from it's full potential? She pointed it at the hairbrush again, wishing with all her heart for some form of success.

"Reducto!" She yelled again. The brush only quivered slightly, but it made Ginny's heart leap. There was hope for this wand yet.

Suddenly, a loud pop filled the room, as Heller the house elf appeared before her. Startled, she pointed the wand at him, but after his large eyes widened she lowered it immediately.

"Sorry Heller, you frightened me," She apologized.

"Miss Ginny, Heller is sorry to scare you Miss, but I have a message from Master Malfoy." He mumbled squeakily, avoiding her eyes.

"What does he want?" She asked with a sigh. She should have known she wouldn't get to turn in early.

"He says that you is to be eating dinner tonight with the family and their guest. He says dinner is in twenty minutes Miss, and to dress nicely." The elf stumbled slightly on the words. He seemed nervous.

Ginny's eyes widened. Dinner? With the Malfoy's? Surely, this was some odd dream. Perhaps nightmare was a more fitting term. It did not make any sense. They treated her as if she mud on their shoes, with distaste and hate. Why would they want her to dine with them?

The small elf cleared his throat, tearing her from her thoughts. "Master told Heller to make sure you is preparing Miss Ginny," He said apologetically.

She blinked, "I don't have nice clothes."

"Master thought you would say that, he said to say you are a witch Miss, and you should be able to think of something. Heller is also here to help."

She pursed her lips, anger bubbling inside her, but tried to dismiss it upon addressing Heller. "Can you transfigure fabrics into clothing?" She asked, still trying to control her temper.

The elf nodded.

She would've tried doing it herself, but she wasn't sure her wand would be able to, and even if it was, she did not want the elf knowing that it might be able to assist her in more than household spells. If she did succeed escaping, she was to do it alone. She did not want another Twinkie. She was determined that no one else would be punished for her actions.

Fifteen minutes later, she was dressed as nicely as possible with her circumstances. They had transfigured her uniform into a simple black dress, longer than usual, which was a relief on her part.

She wore her hair down, it was slightly wild, but she did not care. These were just the Malfoy's after all. She wasn't going to try too hard, and she was suspicious enough of this change of routine anyway. She needed to be on her guard, not uncomfortable.

After slipping her wand up her sleeve, she took a deep breath, and began walking towards the dinning room.

She felt like a sheep heading for slaughter.

Her heart was pounding, her stomach churning. Why was she so nervous? It upset her, and intrigued her all the same. Could her gut feeling have been right? Was today the day? The 'something' she had felt nearing, was it happening now?

As she walked, she replayed her plan of escape over and over in her mind. She wasn't completely prepared yet, but she was usually good at acting on instinct. She didn't know why she was stressing out so much, perhaps the Malfoy's just wanted to chat? It seemed unlikely. She wanted to be ready for anything tonight.

Pausing before the grand doors only for a moment, she entered without knocking, trying to keep calm and stand tall. If there was one thing Ginny had learned in life, it was to never show the enemy your fear.

All three Malfoy's were already seated, the picture of poise. Blonde and pristine. Nothing looked different than any other night, except for the guest sitting beside them. The opposite of poised and pristine, greasy haired and slouched, Severus Snape's cold eyes snapped up to her.

His lip curled, but he said nothing as Ginny stood there, the surprise and shock freezing her momentarily.

Finally, it clicked.

"You!" She shouted, charging towards the sallow skinned man.

Before she could reach him to punch his lights out, a small bang pushed her back, causing her to stumble.

Lucius had stood, his wand raised, his fury evident. "Remember your place Weasley!" He barked, sneer etched on his lips.

Snape smirked, "It's quite fine Lucius. I think we all know how the Weasley temper works."

Ginny glared daggers at him. How dare he! How dare he speak about her, her family? The slime! He killed Dumbledore! He had started this war! He needed to pay!

Yet this time it was Narcissa who stopped her from charging at Snape again.

"If you are done with your theatrics now, we would like to have dinner." Her tone was cold and commanding.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she finally approached the table cautiously, noticing the only empty space was beside Draco. She sat quickly, biting her lip to keep from cursing the whole lot.

As if sensing her thoughts, Draco laid a gentle hand on her forearm, a warning. She glanced at him swiftly. He was looking at his father, not showing any response to her presence. It was odd, now that she thought about it, that he had remained silent throughout her outburst.

She tried to move her arm from his grip, but it only tightened. Shit. He wasn't happy.

The silence in the room was incredibly uncomfortable. All but Draco seemed to be looking at her, none of them seemed to be delighted with her presence. Well, the gits would have to deal with it, they had made her come to dinner after all.

Finally, the silence was broken by the appearance of a massive dinner on the table. It seemed that here, like at Hogwarts, elves would send it up magically. Draco's grip loosened as his hands went to his silverware.

The whole lot began to eat, each with manners to equal a queen's. Ginny was beyond confused. She was dazed. Was she supposed to eat with them? Why had they summoned her here? Simply to be rattled by Snape's presence? What did they want?

She stared dizzily at the scene playing before her. There was only one possible explanation. They were all lunatics. Completely and utterly bonkers.

Lucius cleared his throat, and her eyes snapped to him. He was looking at her, mild amusement on his face. Clearly, a mad man. "Aren't you going to tuck in Miss Weasley? This surely is a better dinner than your last." He asked it so lightly, no hint of the previous anger there. Only his usual contempt and wait-

"Did you just call me _Miss_ Weasley?" She blurted as she realized the eldest Malfoy's words.

He smirked, and she simply knew that beside her, his son wore an identical expression. Gits. Narcissa raised an eyebrow, and Snape wore his usual sneer. Honestly, these people needed to be taught some diversity.

"Well, that is your name isn't it? I could always resume calling you 'blood-traitor' if you prefer. It suits you." His tone was silky and taunting, the venom laced beneath it all.

Deciding to let it slide for now, she glanced down at her hands folded in her lap. "Why am I here?" She asked a moment later, now eyeing the occupants around the table. "Why have you suddenly decided to invite me to dine with you? Me, your _servant_?" She hesitated on the word, and it left a bitter taste.

Draco spoke for the first time that evening. "Eat. We will discuss everything after dinner. There is no point in letting the food grow cold." His tone held a warning to it, but something else was hidden. She couldn't tell what it was. It sounded apprehensive? Anxious? She could never know with him!

He was like an iceberg, with only a third of his mass above the surface. She never knew what was waiting beneath the depths.

As if cued by his words, everyone went back to their silent chewing, and scraping of silverware on delicately crafted plates. She sat in silence, gawking at them slightly, before snapping to her senses.

Something was definitely going on, and she was going to find out soon enough. Why not at least enjoy the delicious food in front of her? She hadn't had a decent meal in forever. Excited suddenly, she found herself eating rather enthusiastically.

She heard a light snort beside her, and knew it was meant only for her ears. She glanced at the youngest Malfoy, his smirk wide and eyes gleaming, mocking her.

Feeling the sudden flash of childlike anger and need of revenge she turned her head so only he could see, and opened her mouth wide, the partly chewed mouthful she had taken on display.

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and satisfied, she returned to casually stuffing her face. She hadn't had food this good in ages, and she was a Weasley after all. How could she afford not to take advantage of the situation?

Half a second later, she felt a slight nudge and looked over, only to be flashed Draco's very own mouthful. Ginny barely held back the burst of laughter that had suddenly come at his antics.

Since when was Draco Malfoy the type to show people his chewed up food? It was so un-Malfoy of him, for a moment, he had seemed like someone else. Someone fun. A friend? Never. But as another pang of missing filled her, she noticed Snape's eyes on her.

She narrowed her eyes at him, and for the rest of the meal, kept her eyes solely on her plate, and her mouth sealed. The dinner resumed in silence mostly, except for a short hushed discussion between Snape and Lucius.

Finally, the silence was broken as the last of the plates was cleared.

Lucius cleared his throat, all eyes were immediately upon him. "So Miss Weasley, you must be dreadfully curious about this dinner I presume?"

She nodded stiffly, pulse beginning to quicken.

"Did you enjoy the meal?" He inquired, sounding generally interested, a platinum eyebrow raised.

"Wha-what?" She stuttered, utterly bewildered at everyone's strange antics. Beside her Draco scoffed, and Snape smirked. Greasy git. She shot him a glare, and Narcissa Malfoy smiled tightly at her, shocking her all together.

"Miss Weasley you must be confused, as my husband loves to beat around the bush," Narcissa said as she glanced at Lucius with a quick smirk and turned back to Ginny, "I'll get to the point."

"That would be bloody helpful," Ginny muttered.

She felt Draco stiffen at her side, and Lucius's eyes narrowed. She really needed to learn to keep her mouth in check.

Yet, Narcissa only laughed lightly, a gentle and pleasing sound. Ginny stared at the woman. Never before had she spoken to her in any way but condescending, and she avoided it if possible. Now here she was, being… pleasant.

Ginny did not like it one bit.

"We want to offer you, a… promotion, of sorts," The blonde began elegantly. "We are offering you to stay here as a guest. You will be treated to meals like this every day, you will be given one of our spacious guest rooms, and you will not have to continue any of your previous duties. You may do as you like in the Manor… within reason of course."

Ginny gawked at her. She knew it was rude, but she could not give a damn. This made no sense. They were up to something. There was no way in hell the Malfoy's would want to be nice to her, no way they would offer to willingly let her dine with them and live as a guest in their home.

"Well, what do you think Miss Weasley?" She prompted.

Gathering herself, Ginny straightened up in her seat. "I think, _Mrs. Malfoy_," She could not help but sneer slightly at the name, "that you all are taking the piss, because we both know there is no way in hell you would be offering me this for free. So be honest now, what's the catch?"

The table was quiet for a moment, as she surveyed each of the other occupants menacingly. Lucius looked like he was itching for his wand, but controlling himself. Snape had his usual sneer of disdain on, and Narcissa only looked bemused. Ginny assumed Narcissa was going to continue speaking, so she could not help but be surprised when it was the younger Malfoy male beside her who spoke next.

"No need for that attitude Weasley. I would be more than happy to send you off with another list of things that need to be done. The library books haven't been properly sorted in ages." He radiated smugness, and she had the sudden urge to kick him, but sadly refrained.

Lucius's smirk was back in place, "Draco, although your suggestion sounds quite appealing, I'm sure the girl doesn't share your enthusiasm. So Miss Weasley, would you like to accept our generous offer?"

"Would you like to tell me what you want in return?" She countered.

"Information," Lucius finally admitted, "We shall give you anything you wish and in return you answer a few simple questions."

Ginny scoffed, "Did you honestly think that _bribery_ would get me to talk?"

Lucius sighed, "No, but I had hoped. It's a lot easier than other ways of interrogation." He turned to Snape, "How much longer Severus?"

Snape took out a pocket watch and glanced at it swiftly, "Another minute or so." He replied curtly, tucking the watch back into his robes.

Ginny was about to ask what they were talking about, a cold chill filling her. So, it was going back to more interrogations, which could only mean torture. She wasn't sure how many more times she could take it. It had been a while since a wand had been raised against her, and it seemed that the longer she went without it, the more it hurt the next time.

Before she could speak however, Lucius turned to her once more. "Last chance Weasley, I'm offering you the easy way, and you can only benefit from it."

"I don't see any benefit in betraying my beliefs, nor the people fighting for them," She replied stubbornly, trying to keep up a brave front.

"Stop being a Gryffindor for one moment Weasley," Draco said softly from beside her. She turned to look at him and noticed his eyes seemed warmer than usual, "Think of your own needs for once."

His gaze was smothering her, suffocating and beseeching. Her reply stuck in her throat, her mouth went a little dry. His lip quirked slightly, and heat rushed to her cheeks. That devil! He was charming her into doing what he wanted! He knew it, and she knew it, yet she still couldn't look away.

But once again, Lucius spoke and broke her trance-like state. "Weasley," He paused and she locked eyes with him, scowl in place. "In your food," He continued, "there were several sedative potions which should be taking effect in about thirty seconds. Are you going to be intelligent and accept our proposition, or foolish and refuse?"

Stunned, she gaped at him.

"Twenty seconds," He taunted.

She turned to Draco, but he only shrugged nonchalantly.

Furious, she stood, pushing her chair back. "Not only do I not intend on accepting anything you monsters offer me, you can kill me before I'll give you any information!" She exclaimed proudly.

"But where's the fun in that?" Lucius drawled.

She opened her mouth to shout another snarky comeback at him, but a sudden wave of dizziness stopped her. Clutching her head, her limbs began to feel heavy, and she had to place a hand on the table to keep her legs from giving way.

"That will be the potions taking effect," Snape said in his usual bored tone.

Shooting the hooked nosed man one last glare, the room began to grow dim, before fully overcome with darkness. A bang, and she knew she had fallen on the floor as her side hurt from the impact. She tried to fight the black abyss, but it was too powerful.

In seconds, consciousness was as far away as the moon and the stars.

* * *

It was deafening.

The ringing.

It raged, such a high-pitched note that it almost seemed impossible she should hear it. But hear it she did.

Nothing else was audible, just the steady, stinging, ringing. She wanted it to stop. She would rather hear nothing. Could she stop it? If only she could cover her ears. Could she? How?

There were always her hands.

Yes! She had hands! The realization granted some form of excitement, some notion of sense and logic. Her hands could cover her ears, and the horrid ringing silence would cease! Or was it just silence? Did the absence of all sound cause some form of sound? Did that make any sense?

Everything was so foggy and confusing.

But slowly, she was becoming more and more aware of herself. She had hands, and they were attached to a body. She obviously had ears, because otherwise she wouldn't be able to hear this blasted ringing.

Her ears were attached to a head, her head. She was alive, therefore she was breathing. So that meant she had a mouth and nose. What else was on a face? She squeezed her eyes tightly in concentration. Wait… eyes! She had eyes!

If she opened them, then would the darkness cease? The darkness suddenly frightened her. What could be hiding in it? Where was she anyway? A sudden primal urge to see her surroundings fell, and she knew it was time to open her eyes. It would give her answers.

But how? It couldn't be too difficult, but she didn't remember the motion and it frustrated her. What was going on? Why was she so confused, why couldn't she see? Panic and desperation filled her. She tried to squeeze them again.

And suddenly, effortlessly, her eyes opened.

The ringing ceased immediately, and she sighed in sweet relief. Blinking once or twice at the lack of darkness, she glanced at her surroundings.

The light was dim here too, but bright compared to the previous darkness. Stone walls. Everything was stone. A wooden table not too far away, and everything beyond it was hidden in shadow.

Where was she?

She suddenly noted she was sitting, and moved to stand. She could not. A quick look down and she saw she was restrained. To a chair. What the hell?

But then, it all came rushing back.

The strange dinner. The proposition. The sedative potions.

Bloody Malfoy's!

Anger welled in every pore of her being. She thrashed and tried to loosen her bonds, but it was to no avail. She wasn't going anywhere, and surely, they would be upon her soon.

Information. That's what they wanted, and they believed she could give it to them. She had thought that perhaps, after the last times, they had understood they would not get it from her. Apparently not.

Or perhaps, perhaps they had something new. Something that would make them believe she might actually talk this time. A cold chill filled her. Before she could ponder any further however, a door that she cold not see snapped shut loudly, and footsteps approached.

They sounded far. How big was this place? Where was this place? What was this place? And a sudden realization sent a shock of excitement through her. The dungeons. Surely!

But as swiftly as it had come, the excitement faded, leaving only more doubts and questions. Even if these were the dungeons, she did not know how to reach them on her own. And of course, most importantly, what was even in the dungeons that Twinkie had wasted her dying breath on telling her about them? Had she even heard her correctly? Had the dying elf simply been confused?

The footsteps grew nearer, and she could now clearly tell it was more than one pair of footsteps echoing. Her skin prickled, dread oozing slowly through her veins. She wasn't ready for this.

They stepped out of the shadows, not two, but three men cloaked in black. The father, the son, and the potions master.

She should have expected this. Still, the presence of not one, but three torturers was enough to make her stomach clench uneasily. The wands they were each grasping didn't help calm her nerves either.

She appraised them as they approached, each so different from the other. First Snape, his scowl strong, menacing even with his slight slouch. Then of course was Lucius, tall and poised Lucius, looking as bored as always.

Lastly came Draco, tall and blonde as his father, yet seemingly much less at ease. His usual mask was on, a face of stone, yet something was off. He did not hold his usual arrogant demeanor, and he would not meet her gaze. It was strange. Perhaps he felt bad?

The thought was laughable.

All eyes were on her as the three men stopped walking, standing just a few feet away. As much as their gazes made her squeamish, she was determined not to let it show. They would not intimidate her. Or at least, they wouldn't know they did.

"Weasley, it's good to see you have finally come around," Lucius drawled, breaking the silence, his cold voice echoing off the stone walls.

"Yes, I must say those potions were quite spectacular. Really, I couldn't remember my own name for a while." She answered steadily, relieved her voice wasn't shaking with the fear she felt.

"Snape's concoction. Filled with enough veritaserum to keep you truthful for weeks. That was why the other potions were necessary of course, if we had given it to you all at once conscious, you would be dead within the minute." Lucius was smug all around, his smirk only barely contained.

She knew they expected her to be shocked, afraid, cornered.

Ginny only smiled.

"It astounds me," She shook her head smiling wider still, "Again and again, you Death Eaters continue to underestimate the Order. All the veritaserum in the world won't help you Malfoy, I'm immune, as is every single Order member."

Lucius blinked once, and turned to Snape. "Is it possible?" He asked, tone accusing.

Snape did not remove his cool gaze from Ginny as he answered slowly, thinking. "It _is_ possible, however surprising. The only herb that can stop the veritaserum's effects is quite rare, and frankly I do not see how it could cause lifetime immunity either."

Ginny couldn't help but smirk, "There are other genius potion's master's Snape. Some fight for our side."

"Drop the bravery act Weasley. It's not fooling anyone," Snape whispered his dark eyes glaring.

Ginny stared him down, eyes blazing with anger. She did not retort, but she did not back down. How she wished looks could kill. Snape smirked, and she could tell he was amused. If only her arms were free, he'd be sporting a bloody nose by now.

"As enlightening as this chat is," Lucius cut in interrupting the glaring contest, "There are more important things we need to know. One last time Weasley, will you cooperate, or will we have to make you cooperate?"

She turned her glare to him, "You must be completely dim Malfoy. I've told you time and time again, you'll kill me before I tell you anything."

"Oh you poor delusional creature," Lucius began, leaning in close, eyes cold as ice. "You have no idea what you're in for." He whispered maliciously and pulled away.

Ginny shivered slightly. Was it just her, or had the room just dropped in temperature? She glanced again at Draco, who was watching impassively. But once more, something was off. Was it the fact that he wasn't saying anything? Or, that his eyes weren't hard and cold as usual? She couldn't put her finger on it, but he definitely wasn't acting normally.

Another glance at Lucius, and she saw that he now was twirling his wand in his fingers, a thoughtful look across his face. In a swift motion, he turned back to her, a cruel smile forming on his lips.

He pulled a scrap of parchment out of his robes pocket, and shoved it under her nose, illuminating it with his wand tip.

Ginny let out a small gasp, her eyes widening in surprise, as she recognized the old forgotten letter addressed in her name.

"I take you recognize this?" Lucius hissed.

Of course she did. But how had the Malfoy's come by it? Had she not been taken to Malfoy Manor unconsciously, she would have brought it with her, as it was not something that could simply be lying around. As that was not the case however, she took relief in the fact that it was hidden well, and the storage place had never been found by any guards before. It seemed that she was mistaken.

"Well?" Lucius said loudly, his wand dangerously close.

She gazed up at him, hating every inch of his malicious face. "I've never seen this before in my life," She answered coolly.

"You're a liar," He snarled.

"And you're despicable," She spat.

"Yes," He jerked up suddenly, smirk back in place, "It's one of my best qualities. Levicorpus," He added, wand pointed at her.

As she was tied to the chair, it rose and flipped with her as she was hoisted into the air by the curse. Suddenly dizzy as blood began to rush into her head, she had to blink several times to steady her vision.

She looked and saw Snape had gone to the table and was placing items on it- a cauldron, several vials, and some measuring instruments. He was making potions? Now? Draco had not moved, and he continued to watch the scene, arms crossed and face blank.

Lucius was grinning wickedly, eyes dancing in the dim light. "That parchment is addressed to you, and was found in your former cell. How did you manage to sneak it into Azkaban?" He sounded generally interested, and in the sake of at least stalling the pain that was yet to come, Ginny decided she could give him that useless bit of knowledge.

"I stuffed it in my mouth," She replied easily.

Lucius nodded, "I see." He replied, looking at the parchment with distaste. She smirked at her small triumph. "And, what on earth is so important about this parchment that you felt the need to smuggle it in with you?"

"Oh you know, just a keep sake." She would have shrugged if she hadn't been upside down. It was really getting uncomfortable.

"No more lying Weasley," He whispered, and a sudden jet of light hit her, sharp hot pinpricks erupting all over her body. Biting her lip from crying out, she glared at him.

It stopped, and she let out a sigh of relief. That hadn't been too bad. She'd had so much worse.

"Liberacorpus," He said, making her land harshly on the ground, still tied to the wooden chair. "Answer me now girl, I'm tired of your smart mouth!" Lucius demanded, "What is this parchment? What is written on it? What is this absurd scrawling?"

"You really want to know?" She asked, her eyebrows raised.

"Obviously," He sneered.

"Bring it here then," She sighed.

Lucius looked surprised, and Draco leaned forward slightly, watching carefully as his father placed the parchment in front of her, his wand illuminating it once more.

She screwed her face up in concentration, reading slowly. "Lucius… Malfoy… is… a… raging lunatic… and git… who must not… be able to comprehend… the meaning of… 'Not saying anything'!" She hissed angrily.

She felt a heavy blow to her cheek, with such force that her chair was knocked sideways, crashing with her in it.

He had slapped her. Hard.

Tears stung in her eyes, but she willed them to disappear. The wanker would not make her cry. Not this soon at least. She had been through worse. It was a matter of will power. Mind over matter. She could do this.

Yet as much as she tried to convince herself, a voice deep inside was rather doubtful. Something was different this time. She wasn't as strong as before. Her will had been weakened by more death and loss, more hopelessness. There were so many nights she had considered to end it all, but never dared. Perhaps she wasn't as brave as she thought.

On the other hand, was it really bravery? Ending it all, just because she was tired? Or was it perhaps cowardice that brought on those thoughts, and bravery that deduced them? It was so hard, but she could never bring herself to give up. There was always a way out. There had to be.

Her body ached from the violent fall, and her cheek stung like fury. But the chair had broken, and the ropes binding her were binding no longer. She would get to her feet. She would face Malfoy. She knew she had no hope of escaping at the moment, or avoiding torture. But she would look him in the eye. And one day, she would pay him back.

She breathed in deeply, and slowly, shakily, she got to her feet. Lucius stood, wand outstretched, his sneer cruel as ever. She could see the loathing in his eyes, and she knew that hers held the same.

Smoke had started to billow throughout the room, rising out of the cauldron on the table, although Snape was nowhere in sight. Draco stood in the shadows now, all she could see was his outline.

She turned her gaze back to Lucius, and lifted her chin proudly. "So, are you just going to stand there? Or are you going to curse me like the coward you are?"

Lucius snarled, and then it began. An endless stream of the most brutal curses ever created, a question and her refusal to answer, followed by more hexes created solely for this purpose.

She had forgotten how much pain she could endure without dying. It amazed her how her memories of torture were not even close to the true pain. It was not a decision to scream, it was automatic. She could not control it.

She had been wrong before. Draco was not nearly as good at his father was at this art. Lucius had no conscience, no mercy whatsoever. Draco had, it seemed, gone easy on her before.

She didn't know how much time had passed, how long she lay crumbled on the floor, throat raw, tears streaming. It must have been hours, but Lucius was relentless. She had not given in. She had not answered a single question, and he was agitated.

As his latest curse effects ended, she stared numbly at the stone patterns on the floor. She heard his footsteps approach, and he leaned down, his face close to hers, fury etched in every line.

"What are the contents of that letter?" He voice was steel, full of hate.

"Go to hell," She whispered.

He stood again, his wand pointed straight at her chest. "Crucio!"

Her scream echoed across the room, her throat burning, but she could not stop. Everything was on fire. Everything was in ice. How was she still alive? How was she not insane yet? Like Neville's parents? Or was she? Was this insanity? To endure this pain, again and again?

His curses seemed to last longer now. She writhed and thrashed, whimpering and crying out, but no one would hear. No one would help.

But suddenly, it actually stopped. She heard running footsteps, and a voice, so familiar, but she had not heard it in a while. He had been so quite. He had left, shortly after Lucius began his interrogation. It probably had bored him, but it seemed now he had come back, Draco had returned.

He was shouting something, and she willed herself to listen, with every ounce of energy she had left.

"Are you mad father? Look at her! She's a complete bloody mess! You've been torturing her for hours now! She'll go insane, or she'll be dead! And then what? You expect to get the information you seek from her corpse?"

She could not see him, as she was facing the other way, and had no willpower to turn over. Yet she could imagine him clearly, running his hands through his hair, eyes wild. Beautiful.

Oh god, maybe she really had gone insane.

"Draco, I'm close, I know it. She'll break soon enough. No one can stay silent forever." Lucius replied smoothly, reasoning.

"No. Absolutely not. Enough for today father. We will leave now and return tomorrow, but no more today. She'll be dead if you raise your wand again." Draco said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Lucius sighed, resigning. "I suppose you are right Draco. I admit, I lost my temper. Where is Severus?"Ginny could not help but be surprised at Lucius's submission. But she could not say she was not grateful for it.

"He went home. He said the potion's should be ready by tomorrow and he will return then," Draco replied, calmer now.

"Alright, goodnight then Draco," Lucius said, and as his footsteps sounded smaller and farther away, Ginny felt a relief fill her so largely she nearly burst into tears.

A softer pair of footsteps approached her slowly, and this time it was the son who crouched down close to her. His expression was as usual, unreadable.

"You look horrendous," He whispered softly.

"At least I don't look like a ferret," She coughed, voice weak.

"Don't talk," He commanded, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "Here, drink this," He said and handed her a small potion vial. "It will help you sleep."

She did not question him, and drank quickly, desperate for some rest.

He stood and walked away, leaving her to sink into darkness once more.

* * *

Draco could not sleep.

It had been happening a lot lately, but this time was worse. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her. Her face as the first curse hit, her small form crumpled on the ground, nearly every inch of pale skin bruised and bloody.

He had seen many people tortured before, he himself had done countless acts, and never before had it affected him so. It worried and disturbed him, and he could not shake it off.

When his father had begun his interrogation, Draco immediately knew it would not go well. Hell, he knew it would not go well the minute he had known there was need for an interrogation. He had seen first hand how stubborn Ginevra was, and how strong she was.

He had been relieved when they had come up with the veritaserum plan. It was simple, easy.

But of course, the girl was again underestimated. How the hell were she and the rest of the Order immune to veritaserum? It was strange, but smart. The Order definitely weren't the same as before.

The moment the realization struck that they would have to resort to physical torture, a cold feeling had pooled in the pit of his stomach. He could not bear to watch her scream, and writhe and cry. It had been overwhelming, and shortly after his father had hit her with his first favorite curses, Draco had left the dungeons. He couldn't stand to see her like that, so weak, helpless, like a small child.

It drove him mad!

Why did it bother him? She was just a Weasley! He had tortured her before, and it had meant nothing at all. It had been no different to him than any other person. What had changed?

And suddenly he knew. Those few weeks when she had taken care of him, they had changed the relationship between them. They had bonded somehow. Yes, he had still treated her like a servant, but those few weeks had been so much easier. Almost like a break from life. He had told everyone that he did not remember much from those weeks, because of the potions, but that was a lie. He remembered every single moment. And he especially remembered her during that time. They had shared talks and conversations, almost like true friends, and it had been so easy. Fun.

But then he was healed, and it was over. Time to get back on with life. He had so many important matters to deal with, that after that he had no time to see her much or speak with her. Besides, it wasn't good for them to be on good terms. She was his servant. She was a Weasley. It was best to pretend like he had forgotten. It was time to go back to reality.

But now, now here he was. Tossing and turning, her suffering image popping into his mind every moment he closed his eyes. The knowledge that while he was lying in his comfy bed, she was probably freezing in the dungeons. There was only one thing to do to help clear his mind.

With a sigh, he got up and slipped on a pair of shoes and a cloak. He conjured a thick blanket and pillow, and began to walk swiftly down to the dungeons, resolved to make sure she was not freezing to death and then leave before she would be aware of his presence.

He slipped into the room quietly, flicking his wand to light the torches on his way. She had not moved since he had left her last. Curled up, bruised and small, she lay on the ground.

Carefully, he lifted her head and placed the pillow underneath it, and covered her in the blanket, casting a heating charm on it. Satisfied, and feeling better, he turned and began to walk away.

A groan stopped him in his tracks. He heard movement and a small cough. He turned to see her sitting up, gazing at him with wide eyes, flushed cheeks and her hair wild.

"Why Draco?"

Her voice was so small, so weak from screaming.

"Why what?" He whispered uncertainly.

"Why," She paused and coughed again, "do you do what you do? Death Eaters I mean. Why do you kill, and torture and rip families apart? And don't," She gasped, tears beginning to fall, "Don't say it's because we're dirt, because we are all people, we are all the same."

He stared at her, shocked. His mind was buzzing, and no words were forming.

"We all have hearts, and bodies, and minds. Just because someone's parents are different, doesn't mean they deserve to die," She said quietly.

He sighed slowly.

"It's a war Ginevra. Deserve has got nothing to do with it." He turned around and began to walk back towards the doors, before her soft voice stopped him once more.

"If you don't believe in their cause, why do you fight alongside them?"

He paused for another moment, before continuing on and leaving the dungeons, her question hanging in the air, and in his mind.

He just wished he had an answer.

* * *

_**A/N- Whew, that was a long one, but I certainly hoped you liked it. I am truly sorry updates are taking so long, but bear with me, I'm doing my best! Review review review, seriously you have no idea how much it motivates! Until next time loves...**_


	8. Different Pulses

**_A/N- I know it has been far too long since my last update and I am truly sorry. It keeps getting harder to find time to write, and even then writer's block kicks in. Here it is, hope you enjoy, and of course reviews are lovely and appreciated! _**

* * *

"_It's like a face that I hold inside  
Like a face that awakes when I close my eyes  
A face watches every time I lie  
A face that laughs every time I fall  
And watches everything  
So I know that when it's time to sink or swim  
That the face inside is hearing me  
Right underneath my skin  
It's like I'm paranoid lookin' over my back  
It's like a whirlwind inside of my head  
It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within  
It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin"- Papercut, Linkin Park_

* * *

"_Ron stop stomping, you'll wake mum for sure!"_

_Ginny rubbed her eyes sleepily, having just been awoken by Fred's voice outside her door._

"_I wasn't stomping!" Ron hissed and continued his, rather loud, descent down the stairs._

_Suddenly alert and excited, Ginny jumped out of bed. She dashed out the door and stood over the railing gazing at her three brothers conversing in the kitchen._

_They were whispering harshly, but she could not make out the exact words they were saying. Giddy at the possibility of an adventure, she skipped gracefully down the steps, quite quieter that Ron had been._

"_So where are we off to?" She asked her voice cheerful, but subdued so as not to wake her parents._

_Fred, George and Ron turned around swiftly, each face grimacing at her appearance. Her bright smile dropped instantly and she scowled, placing her hands on her hips._

"_Don't you dare say it!" She hissed._

_George's grimace turned into a frown, "You can't come Ginny," He said firmly._

"_You're too young," Fred added._

_She took a deep breath, trying to control her temper. "That's what you always say! But I'm starting Hogwarts this year! Ron's only a year older than me anyway!" She whined._

_Fred and George shrugged simultaneously, and Ron's eyes were pleading. "Ginny please don't make a fuss, we'll be back in a few hours. Please just go back to bed, you can't come."_

_Ginny's eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine," She spat, and started up the stairs. She paused, contemplating whether to go up loudly on purpose to wake they're mother but decided against it._

_Even though her brothers never included her on any of the fun, she just couldn't bring herself to ruin it for them._

_Sliding back into bed with an intense feeling of disappointment she willed sleep to wash over her but it would not. Toxic thoughts filled her mind, her anger at her brothers burning strong. It wasn't fair that they never included her. They always treated her like a child, and Ron was only a year older anyway!_

_She scowled and turned on her side, staring longingly at the bright full moon in the sky outside. How she hated being the youngest, sheltered from the world and its endless possibilities. She wished she were Bill's age, always off on adventures, doing what he wanted with no one to stop him._

_She huffed in annoyance. She knew sleep would not come now. Staring once again at the star filled sky, she threw off her covers and got out of her bed once more._

_A good fly on Fred's broom would surely relax her riled up state._

_Slipping on her shoes and creeping down the steps silently, she made it outside and to the broom shed in no time._

_As she lifted into the air, all previous anger and resentment vanished. A calm that only occurred while flying washed over her. She made a few slow circles, gaze lingering continuously on the moon._

_It was so beautiful. Mesmerizing. She could not look away, and found herself lazily flying towards it._

_And then, it was no longer the moon, but a face. Pale and beautiful. Dark eyes and a smile even more mesmerizing than the moon had been. It was not a man's face, but not a boy either._

_His smile was so warm, welcoming like the bright light he shed. Surprisingly she found herself hovering by his mouth, each of his brilliantly white teeth glittering._

"_Who are you?" She wondered out loud, voice soft._

"_Why don't you take a guess lovely girl," He cooed._

_His voice sent an excited tingle down her spine. "I- I don't know," She replied finally._

_His dark eyes twinkled like the stars around them. "I'm everything Ginevra," He said coolly._

_Taken aback, Ginny blinked up at him. "How do you know my name?"_

_He laughed, a lovely sound that made her heart speed up. "Why I know everything about you, sweet girl."_

"_You- You do?" She asked shocked, and flattered._

"_Oh yes. I've been watching you. I've wanted to talk to you for a long time Ginevra." He replied smoothly._

"_Why?" She blurted. Surely this lovely creature could not be interested in her. She was positively boring and ordinary._

_He laughed again, but this time it was colder. His smile did not seem to reach his eyes and Ginny felt another shiver down her spine that was nowhere near as exciting as it was before._

"_Because I've sensed things in you, that reminded me greatly of myself." He explained._

"_Like what?" She whispered._

_His charming smile seemed to turn into a feral grin. "Hate," He said bitingly._

"_What?" She asked aghast._

"_Oh yes. You hate them all don't you? For belittling you? Treating you like an infant? You resent them don't you Ginerva? Do not shake your head girl. I have seen it all. I have seen your mind. I have seen your heart. And now, they are mine."_

_Eyes widened, Ginny stared in horror at the beautiful, but now frightening face._

"_You are mine," He hissed, his grin twisting into a smirk._

_Horrified, Ginny swiftly turned on her broomstick, urging it to fly as quickly as possible back to the Burrow._

_She heard his bone chilling laughter behind her, and suddenly found herself surrounded by faces. All his. All as achingly beautiful, and just as frightening._

_Head turning this way and that, she looked for an escape. There was none._

"_Mine," The faces echoed around her, and with a lurch her broom disappeared, and she was falling helplessly, screaming so loud she was sure her lungs would burst._

_She landed with a loud thud that echoed around the room. Room? What? All was stone here, and it was agonizingly cold. She whirled around, trying to get her bearings but to no avail. This place seemed so familiar, like from a distant memory. But she would surely remember such a place, wouldn't she?_

_Then, the laughing began once more, and there was no more time to look around. As his laughter boomed all around, Ginny ran as she had never before. She did not know where she was going and the light here was dim. She ran and ran, her side stitching, her breath short._

_And then, she collided into something solid. Hitting the ground once more, bottom sore, she stared up at her obstacle._

_Long black robes, tall and slim, and with the face that had been haunting her, he stood fully before her._

_His smirk was triumphant, and he raised his wand directly to her eye level._

"_Mine," He whispered once more._

_Ginny could only scream as the green light blinded her, turning all into black._

She awoke with a jolt. Her throat felt raw and her heart hammered in her chest. She was covered in cold sweat.

Ginny sat up and took quick shallow breaths, eyes traveling around her current surroundings. Much to her dismay, her small hope that she would be in her warm and comfy bed back at the Burrow was crushed as she realized she was still in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor.

She had not dreamed of Tom in months. Why was this happening again?! Why why why?! She choked back a sob, glaring at the dark dungeon. Just like in Azkaban, it seemed these places triggered back old memories, dreams, forbidden thoughts.

Frustrated with herself for feeling so vulnerable, she rubbed her eyes, dismissing the tears that had pooled there. Enough crying. She hated it.

She couldn't be sure, but she had a feeling it was still dark out. If so, maybe now was her chance to explore this place. She had searched for it so many times. It had become a small beacon of hope. Surely Twinkie hadn't told her about this place in vain, right?

Her body ached as she tried to get up, and she stumbled, swaying slightly on her feet. Clutching the wall to steady herself, she moaned at the pain racking her body's every movement.

The only sources of light were the few still burning torches in the wall. Stretching to reach the one above her head, she hissed in pain, but managed to take it. She silently cursed Lucius for being the cause of all her current agony.

Oh she would get him back someday. The bastard.

Carefully, and leaning on the wall for assistance, she began to make her way around the large room. It seemed pretty bare. Stone on stone, dank and musty. Then suddenly she saw the wooden table she had seen during her earlier torture.

A large cauldron stood, no longer producing smoke, and filled to the brim with an apparent green substance. Ginny swallowed nervously. Whatever potion Snape had concocted, it couldn't be any good for her.

Debating only for a moment, she shoved the large cauldron, causing it to fall and spill its contents with a loud bang. Wincing at the pain and the noise, she continued hobbling around the room. She figured there was a chance someone had heard that, and she didn't know if she'd have much more time for exploring.

Nothing.

All she saw was stone.

She began to grow frustrated, and she felt so tired she could hardly walk. Emotionally and physically drained, she threw the torch and slunk down the wall, tears filling her eyes once more.

Deciding there was no point in stopping them, she let them flow, sobs racking her body for what felt the thousandth time. Each sob caused another shock of pain, her own body betraying her. Hopelessness took over. It was just too much.

"You know I've always hated when you cried," A smooth voice drawled.

Gasping, she looked up sharply. The torch was still lit, casting a dim light around her. It must be charmed to stay lit.

She looked around the room, the hairs on the back of her neck raised.

She couldn't see anyone in the vicinity, and definitely not close enough to have spoken so softly but heard so clearly.

She knew the voice, so well, it might have been her own. But she was not dreaming now, and that voice was long gone from her life. Had she imagined it? Could she be losing her mind?

It was extremely possible.

Confused, she bit her lip, contemplating what to do.

"Don't just sit there girl, get up and keep searching," The voice was firmer now, more commanding.

Ginny's eyes widened in horror, and she once again looked all around her. Not a soul. She clutched at her temples, closing her eyes tightly and opening them once more.

A pair of dark eyes stared back at her.

She screamed and covered her mouth, her hand shaking. The eyes seemed to glow with a despicable pleasure, teasing.

And then someone was shaking her, yelling something. She could feel herself moving, squirming, resisting.

"Weasley! Ginevra! WAKE UP!"

And then she was awake, and she wasn't staring into dark eyes, but grey ones. They were wide, pupils dilated in apparent fear, or perhaps shock. It was Draco.

She was hyperventilating, trying to catch a breath "What- what's happening? Whe- where am I?" She stuttered.

"You're in the dungeons," He explained, slightly out of breath as well. "I think you must have been having a nightmare. You were shaking and screaming bloody murder."

Ginny swallowed loudly, "It wasn't real?"

He shook his head.

"It felt so real, I could swear he was here." She whispered, tears streaming down her face.

"Who was here?" Draco asked alarmed.

She didn't answer, but burst into sobs. Hesitantly, he put his arms around her, and she cried into his shoulder.

After a few minutes of him holding her gently, she finally managed to control herself. She pulled back slowly. "Why are you comforting me?" She asked quietly.

He shrugged slightly, "I don't know, it felt like the right thing to do."

She smiled tightly, "Your such a boy. They can never watch girls cry."

He shared the smile, "Maybe that's why," he replied, "Could you tell me what you were dreaming about?"

"No," she whispered and looked down. She suddenly noticed she was not where she had fallen asleep earlier that night. She was across from the wooden table, and she was horror struck to see that the cauldron was turned over, green liquid across the floor.

"It did happen. It was real," She started, horror struck.

"No Weasley, you were just dreaming." He reassured her.

"No! No! Look! The potion! In my dream I spilt it!" She cried, tears starting to choke her again.

He looked over to the green puddle and sighed. "I think I have an idea what happened. You must have awoken last night and wandered around. Upon spilling the potion," Here he paused to look at her sternly, "You caused your own nightmare."

She looked at him bewilderedly.

"That potion is supposed to make you loopy to the point of spewing your darkest secrets and giggling about it. It is meant to be taken in a small portion. However once it was spilt, its fumes must have caused you to fall asleep and have hallucinations and nightmares."

She let out a breath of relief. "So it wasn't real?"

"No," He reassured.

She stared at his face, searching for any signs of deceiving. Upon finding none, she could only focus on his lips. They seemed so smooth, and without stopping to think, she touched them gently with her fingertips.

His eyes zoned in on her, slightly widened in surprise.

She drew back her hand quickly, "Sorry," She mumbled.

He stared at her for another moment, leaning in slowly. She followed, finding herself locked in his gaze. His eyes were so hypnotic, demanding and enticing. Their lips were inches apart. He leaned in closer, a breath apart. She closed her eyes, feeling a sudden desire for his lips on hers. Needing the contact, the comfort of strong arms around her.

They did not come.

She opened her eyes quickly, and he drew back sharply, hand running through his hair. He stood up dusting himself off.

"I expect my father should be back sometime today." He said, voice distant. He waved his wand causing the potion to go back into the cauldron as it righted itself on the table.

She eyed it warily.

"This time it won't spill by the way," He added and began walking towards what she presumed was the exit.

He turned around, and gave her an appraising look. "Please consider volunteering information, I wouldn't want to see you anymore bruised and battered than you already are."

"Why do you care?" She asked bitingly. It was as if their tender moment just minutes ago had been forgotten. He seemed like the same old Draco. Aloof and cold.

He smirked softly, "It would be a shame to ruin your pretty face."

With that he was gone.

She let out a huff of frustration at his odd antics, folding her arms across her chest. Yet, she couldn't help but let a small smile grace her lips as she thought of his strangely flattering compliment.

* * *

"I'm losing it mate." Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I could have told you that years ago."

Draco shot a glare at his best friend. "You're not helping Blaise."

Blaise shrugged, looking completely nonchalant in his armchair with a glass of fire whiskey in one hand. "What's driving you bonkers this time?"

Draco plopped on to the armchair across from Blaise, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Weasley."

Blaise smirked, "Well we knew since day one she would be troublesome."

"Trouble doesn't even begin to describe her."

Blaise's smirk faded as he looked over to Draco. "Out with it."

Draco bowed his head, his eyes never leaving the crackling fire in the fireplace. "I think I'm beginning to-" He paused gathering his words, "To care for her." He spat, sounding like it had physically pained him to say it.

Blaise sighed deeply, "That's not good."

"No," Draco replied.

"She's a Weasley," Blaise stated.

"She is."

"She's a blood-traitor."

"Yes."

"She's your family's prisoner."

"I know."

"Bloody shit." Blaise finished, taking a sip from his glass.

"How could this happen?!" Draco exclaimed, running his hand through his hair once more. "She's just a Weasley! My servant! I've never cared about any silly girls before!"

"There was Elena." Blaise said slowly.

Draco softened, his eyes staring into the red flames once more. "That was different," He whispered.

The pair sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

Blaise was the one to break the quiet. "Is she, you know, showing you less hatred?"

"I'm not sure. I guess so. There was this weird moment today-" He paused and sighed, "Never mind. It's just ever since she took care of me those few weeks, something changed. We had actual conversations, and it felt so easy. She understood me."

"I thought you said you didn't remember much from those weeks," Blaise said, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Oh please," Draco scoffed, "You know I lied."

Blaise grinned, "I had figured."

They fell into silence again, and Draco took a sip from his untouched glass on the table between them.

"So what are you going to do?" Blaise asked finally.

"I don't know. Nothing I guess. I mean, I just have a hard time watching her suffer you know? She's not a bad person. She just chose the wrong side. It's not like I have serious feelings for her," Draco chuckled slightly, taking another long sip.

Blaise gave his occupied friend a searching look, and then turned back to his own glass.

Draco didn't sound nearly as convincing as he had wanted to, and Blaise was worried.

* * *

Theodore checked his watch, and looked up at the sky once more.

The skies were clear tonight, the nearly full moon shedding light all around.

A cool breeze blew, causing him to put his hands back in his robes pockets, shielding them from the cold. Winter was fast approaching, and it was getting colder every day.

He hated winter.

He stomped his feet slightly, letting out a breath to see it mist in the air in front of him. He scowled. Bullocks, he hated the cold.

He glanced ahead at the small wooden cabin, seeming to glow with light, and warmth. He wished he could walk inside, but he knew its many wards would stop him. He had been watching it for hours.

Sitting. Waiting.

It was the cabin in Ireland where they had been sent to find the remaining Aurors. Ever since Draco had told them what he had seen during the battle at the hilltop, he had taken it upon himself to return here and look for anything suspicious.

Because he knew the location of the cabin, he could see it, although he knew it was hidden to other eyes. He had set up camp not far from the cabin, and for the past week he had spent nearly every waking hour watching it.

He studied the cabin and it's few occupants, learning their daily routines. It had been two days after he had began watching when he had seen them. The two Aurors they had thought they killed.

He had known to expect them, and yet could not help but the chill had risen in him upon their appearance. It was impossible, and yet there they were before his eyes.

They had killed them. The curse had hit their bodies, and the life in their eyes had been wiped away. So how? How could they be alive, walking, breathing, and laughing? He couldn't be sure, but he was determined to find out, and fast.

If the Dark Lord found out, they were all dead.

Suddenly nervous, he slipped out a cigarette from the packet in his robes. He lit it with his wand, and inhaled deeply before letting it out into the cold air. He knew it was a nasty Muggle habit, of all things, but it calmed him.

He took another long drag, feeling his nerves calm slightly.

Tonight they would be taking care of this mess. Blaise and Draco were due to meet him here soon. He was glad for some company.

Although they had offered to join him in watching the cabin, he had declined. It would be much harder to be stealthy with two other people. No, he knew it would suit him best, as he was easily the sneakiest of the three.

He had spent a good portion of his life mostly alone, an only child, quieter than most. At Hogwarts he had been pretty closed off, listening in on conversations more than he had been a part of them.

It all had changed at the end of his fifth year though. After Harry Potter had outed his father amongst many other Death Eaters, including Draco's father, he suddenly found himself bonding with his classmates.

He and Draco became good friends, being in similar situations. They understood each other. Blaise had always been close to Draco, but having despised Crabbe and Goyle hadn't spent much time with him around school.

After that year however, they had gotten closer as well and soon they were their own sort of trio.

Theodore had never felt like anything had been missing from his life before befriending the boys. Most of his classmates had seemed loud and quite childish to him. It was only after making friends he realized how much he had been missing.

He had always felt different from all his fellow classmates. All they cared about were relationships, petty school gossip. He had never cared too much about that stuff. He had felt it all to be so… juvenile.

He could only guess it was because he had been forced to grow up faster than most of them. His mother had died when he had been very young. He hardly remembered her to be quite frank. His father had never been around much to begin with, and after his mother had died even less so.

There had been houselves, but other than that, he had pretty much raised himself. He spent most of his days alone, exploring the modest manor he and his father shared.

He loved exploring the grounds most of all. Although their home wasn't considered a very large manor, its grounds were enormous, with a gigantic wood spreading around for acres. He spent many days hiking in those woods, clearing his head.

One day he had discovered a small hilltop, that held on its peak a large boulder. As he had climbed and stood on that boulder, the whole woods laid before him. It was an inspiring view. Trees upon trees stretching out, and above it was a slowly setting sun, clouds tinted orange, skies turning dark.

From then on it had become his spot. His one place away from it all. His absent father, their depressing home, his lonely months at Hogwarts... And as he grew older and his troubles grew it remained his retreat.

How he longed to be there now. He had been so busy lately, so many things were going on. His head felt constantly swirling, and he just needed some peace.

He had thought this week of solitude and solely stalking might present some peace of mind, but it had only made him more confused and concerned. The Aurors impossible reappearance brought up so many questions, and so many problems.

Noticing he was nearly at the filter, he threw down his cigarette and stubbed it out with the heel of his boot.

He checked his watch again and let out a frustrated sigh. Just at that moment, a nearly inaudible pop was heard.

Theodore turned swiftly at the noise, grasp tightening on his wand. He heard a few leaves crunching, a twig snapped, and a figure appeared from behind a tree.

It was Draco, and Blaise was there right behind him.

Theodore let out a breath and loosened the grasp on his wand. "You're late."

Blaise smirked, "Late is better than never."

Theodore grinned.

Draco just stared ahead. "Let's go finish this shall we?" He said quietly, and began walking with purpose toward the cabin.

"What's with him?" Theodore asked Blaise as they began to follow.

Blaise shrugged, "He's always been melodramatic."

"Must be a Malfoy trait," Theodore agreed, but noted to speak with Draco later. Something was on his mind.

The blonde before them stopped suddenly, and they did as well, coming to stand on each side of him.

"The wards are pretty routine, shouldn't take long to get them down," Theodore said, and began to make complicated wand movements, and the other two began to follow his lead.

It took about a minute, and they were through.

Theodore turned to them. "There are four of them. The two we saw in the forest, another boy and another girl. I didn't recognize the other two but obviously that doesn't mean anything since we don't know what we are dealing with."

Draco nodded, calculating the information quickly. "We'll all enter together then. They outnumber us, but we have the element of surprise. No hesitation, stun them as soon as you can."

Theodore nodded, "I'm going to put the wards back up, so they can't apparate." He did so in a matter of seconds.

"Onward then," Blaise said and the three walked briskly on to the threshold.

Blaise quickly unlocked the front door, and the three burst in, wands held high.

All four Aurors were scattered around the fairly large sitting room. It took them about a second to assess each other but it was all the boys needed. Theodore managed to stun one unknown male. Blaise had managed to stun two, and Draco was in a heavy duel with the male Auror they had supposedly killed last time.

Theodore turned to the look at the middle of the room, where Draco stood tall, his eyes murderous.

The male Auror he was fighting and limping, a grin etched on his face. Theodore did not hesitate, he stunned the man from across the room, and Draco looked over to him.

"I would have gotten him," He said heatedly.

"I know," said Theodore, stepping over the stunned man's body, "but we shouldn't waste time."

Draco's scowl dropped and he sighed. "I suppose so. Gather them up."

Each man levitated one of the Aurors', gathering all four in a line, each bound in thick ropes.

"Whom should we start with?" Blaise contemplated.

Theodore appraised the four. There were the two from the forest. The other man looked young, probably only a few years older than him. He was dark haired with a rather wide nose, and a scar on his cheek.

His gaze turned to the girl. He was stunned to see she looked no older than seventeen at best. She had long blonde hair, a very slightly hooked nose, and she held a small cut above her eyebrow. There was something intriguing about her.

"Let's wake them all," Draco said finally.

Blaise shot him a confused look, "All? At once?"

Draco nodded, "I want to know how they are connected and how deeply. I want to turn them against each other. I want them to witness each other's pain in order to assess who cares for who."

Blaise whistled, "Cold mate."

But smart.

It was cold, truly, but smart.

Theodore glanced at Draco. He seemed detached today. He had gotten to know him well, and he could tell something was definitely bothering him. And of course he was taking it out on the Aurors in front of him.

Draco didn't respond, but waved his wand, reviving all four at once.

To give them credit, none of them uttered a sound, as they glared at the three men before them.

There was a tense silence in the room. Theodore decided to take charge for now, as Draco was scowling silently and Blaise was well… being Blaise.

He put on his cruelest sneer, beginning the game.

That's all it was.

A game.

If he didn't think of it as such, he could never play it.

"I'm going to tell you all right now, that lying won't get you anywhere. Nor will keeping quiet." He said calmly, wand in hand.

"You'll just kill us all anyway, so what does it matter?"

He turned his head sharply, surprised that the speaker was the youngest of the group, the blonde girl. She had the fiercest scowl of them all, her eyes narrowed. He was about to reply when he suddenly noticed her eyes. They were light brown, even golden possibly. He couldn't help but be drawn to them. They were beautiful.

He shook himself out of his stupor quickly as Blaise was the one to answer the girl.

"Who said we'd kill you lovely? We can be merciful."

It was the other woman, the girl Auror they had met before who spoke up now. "Yeah, right." Her voice was sarcastic, and Theodore raised his eyebrows. Something was different about her voice.

Blaise smirked, "Oh you'd be surprised love. We are only here because of you though."

"Me?" She asked aghast.

"You and daddy dearest," Blaise said and motioned to the elder Auror whose glare was vicious.

She blinked in surprise.

"He didn't tell you did he?" Draco said, appearing from the shadows, "He's your father Grace."

Her eyes widened, whether from this new information or the use of her name, Theodore did not know.

The elder Auror scoffed. "I'm not her father."

"Don't lie Gill," Blaise said smoothly, "Don't think we forgot all about your confession last time."

His eyes widened as well. "Well I- yes Grace. I'm sorry. I am your father," he said, bowing his head in shame.

Theodore squinted. There was something off in his voice as well. And his attitude. Something was seriously amiss.

Grace and the others looked seriously confused. "I- um… how couldn't you tell me Gill?" She said slowly.

Theodore studied her carefully, and swiftly pointed his wand between her eyes. "When Gill here first introduced himself, who did he say he was?!"

"He- well he, said he was an Auror named Gill Reed. That's all really," She said panicked, breathing ragged.

Theodore lowered his wand, studying the pair.

"Polyjuice potion," He muttered to himself. "They were using polyjuice potion!" He exclaimed suddenly and both Draco and Blaise turned to look at him, realization forming on each face.

Draco's eyes were stone as he turned his wand to Gill's face. All three other Aurors looked in horror upon the scene.

"Who are you?! Are you Gill? Or just pretending?! Spit it out before I torture you to the brink of death, bring you back and torture you some more!" He shouted, fury etched into every line of his face.

Draco was in a foul mood, and he hated being outsmarted, ever. Theodore felt an ounce of pity for the Auror on the other end of the blonde's wand.

"Well?!" Draco yelled impatiently, and when the Auror continued to gape at him, said calmly "Crucio."

Gill squirmed and writhed, screaming. His fellow Aurors cringed, feeling his pain so near them.

"Stop it!" The dark haired Auror shouted.

"Or what?" Blaise sneered.

But Draco really did release the man from the curse.

"Talk," He spat, venom in his tone.

Gill actually looked quite frightened, not nearly like the tough Auror they had met in the forest.

"I- we- I," He stuttered, head twisting trying to see his fellow prisoners. "We were given instructions," He mumbled but was interrupted.

"Shut up!"

"Shut it!"

"Don't tell them anything!"

The other Aurors hissed at him, and his eyes filled with shame.

"I wouldn't listen to your friends. They aren't the ones who will be causing you pain." Draco said coolly.

"No, but we'll happily cause _you_ pain," The blonde girl shot, wriggling slightly in her bonds.

Theodore's gaze traveled back to her. "What's your name?" He demanded before Draco could turn his wand on her.

"Lia, and yourself?" She replied easily.

He smirked. "We're going to be your worst nightmare if you don't shut it _Lia_."

She blinked, "You don't seem to scary."

Blaise sighed, waving his wand and silencing her. He shrugged, "She was giving me a headache."

Theodore grinned. "Quick on her feet though."

Draco frowned, "She reminds me of Weasley."

Theodore raised an eyebrow but did not reply. He saw Blaise throw Draco a similar glance, but Draco was too lost in thought to notice.

The four Aurors were staring at them in pure confusion.

* * *

_"My life is like a wound I scratch so I can bleed  
Regurgitate my words, I write so I can feed  
And Death grows like a tree that's planted in my chest  
Its roots are at my feet, I walk so it won't rest_

_Oh, Baby I am Lost..._

_I try to push the colors through a prism back to white_  
_To sync our different pulses into a blinding light_  
_And if love is not the key. If love is not a key._  
_I hope that I can find a place where it could be_

_I know that in your heart there is an answer to a question_  
_That I'm not as yet aware that I have asked_  
_And if that tree had not drunk my tears_  
_I would have bled and cried for all the years_  
_That I alone have let them pass_

_Oh, Baby I am yours..."- Different Pulses, Asaf Avidan_

* * *

Draco threw his cloak down with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

It had been a long night, and all he wanted was to do was get in to bed and let sleep take over. Getting ready swiftly, he did just so, ready for some peace of mind.

It did not come.

The events of the night replayed over and over in his mind, taunting him away from sleep.

Theodore's theory had been right. The Aurors had indeed been using polyjuice potion. It had been their backup plan, knowing that the Death Eaters were searching for them. If anyone of the group was captured and killed, the others were to take turns assuming their deceased comrades' place. They had actual sacks of hair that belonged to each Auror, each snipping off a small amount every week or so. It was quite disgusting, and his lip curled just thinking about it.

All of that had been done simply in order to confuse them, the Death Eaters.

It was silly and pointless really.

Or was it? They had been in utter anxiety thinking they were still alive somehow. His guess was that the Aurors had expected them to report the odd circumstances back to the Dark Lord, thus causing panic among the ranks, thinking perhaps the other side had some secret weapons their side didn't know about.

But they had failed, because Draco and Blaise and Theodore were no fools. They did not run off reporting the strange sightings before investigating, and the only people who had panicked were themselves.

It satisfied him that at least now he could put that concern to rest, knowing their secret.

A secret that, in one night, had completely backfired and ended all their lives.

He grimaced remembering their faces, four in a row, eyes dark and unseeing. They were all close to his age. It could have easily have been someone he had known.

Hell, it could be him soon.

The war seemed never ending. Constant battles. Constant deaths.

He rolled over, gazing out the large window across from where he was lying. It had started raining earlier, and it had turned into a full-fledged storm by this point.

His thoughts flashed back to the blonde Auror, the young one, Lia. She had lasted the longest.

It was uncanny how her behavior had so resembled Weasley's. Stubborn, uncooperative, sharp-tongued and in insane capacity under torture.

To be fair, he had found it hard to torture the girl and had dealt mostly with the others. The more she had spoken the more he saw her with red-hair and different features. And then he could only see the small, said red-head, curled up in a bruised ball in the dungeons.

His fist clenched at the thought. And then again, why did he care? It was so incredibly frustrating. She was the enemy!

He wondered how she had faired today? His father had surely returned, bent on getting his answers.

A sudden burning need to see her, check on her, set in. For the second night in a row, he slipped out of the comfort of his bed, and made his way to the dungeons. His lack of sleep lately was getting extremely irritating, and it always seemed like it had to do with _her_. Why was she so troubling to him suddenly. It was maddening.

Wand lighting the large stone rooms, his eyes searched for the small figure. To his disbelief, no such figure was in sight.

"Weasley!" He whispered harshly.

Silence.

"Weasley!" He called again, louder now.

"Over here."

He turned in the direction of the noise, wand shedding light on to a far, dark corner. She was huddled there, hands hugging her knees to her chest.

She looked like a lost child, and it pained him to see her so small and vulnerable. He was so used to her standing tall, a force to be reckoned with. Now she seemed so breakable, it was disarming.

"I thought you were _him_," She said harshly.

"Him? My father?"

"No," She said, voice softer now, far away.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Who then?"

She gazed at him lengthily and shook her head. "Never mind, it's not important. _He's_ not important."

Draco was confused, but decided to drop it. He approached her slowly, trying to assess the damage. He could see nothing worse than yesterday, in fact she looked stronger than she had previously.

"Was my father here today?" He asked, crouching down to her level.

She shook her head once more. "No. No one was here today. Just you. But then you left. And I was alone, but it felt like _he _was here." She sounded off, and she was staring, not at him but through him. It was as if she could not see him at all.

He placed a hand gently on her knee, "You aren't alone now. I'm here."

Her gaze shifted, and she stared at him, as if realizing he was here for the first time. Her brown eyes brimmed suddenly with tears.

"I- I don't know what's happening to me Draco," She whispered, the sound of his name foreign coming from her. "I think I'm starting to lose my mind," She added slowly, a tear slipping down her cheek.

He looked at her searchingly, lost for words. He wanted to say something to make her feel better. To make her stop crying.

But what could he say? That she was going to be all right? He couldn't promise that. That she wasn't losing her mind? He couldn't be sure about that. Hell, they were all losing their minds. In war times, no one was truly sane.

So he did not reply. He wiped the tear that had escaped, brushing her cheek softly with his thumb.

She closed her eyes at the contact, more tears slipping.

He was lost. This girl was falling apart in front of him, and he felt a need to put her back together. She had done so for him. He owed her. And so, he pressed his lips slowly to hers, cupping her cheek softly. If all he could give her was some contact, some comfort, then he would.

He pulled back softly, and she was looking at him with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry," He said quietly.

"For what?" She whispered.

"Everything."

She locked eyes with him, and then looked down at his lips. "Kiss me again," She demanded softly.

"I don't think it would be right. You're just feeling vulnerable right now, I shouldn't have before." He said, voice apologetic.

"Please Draco."

She had said it so tenderly, her voice on the edge of begging. He was conflicted, but upon gazing at her again, at her sad eyes he knew he could not deny her. Not if this gave her some sort of consolation.

He kissed her again, gently. She responded, pulling him closer, demanding.

He knew this was wrong. He knew that they were just both lost, lonely, seeking comfort.

He knew he was weak for giving in to her.

And yet he couldn't bring himself to break away.

He would hate himself in the morning, but for now, for this night he would just forget. Forget who he was, who she was, which sides they were fighting for.

As long as they were locked together, they could survive this night.

* * *

_**A/N- There it is, hopefully I'll be able to get the next chapter up much sooner. Again I am truly sorry for the long delay! Hope you enjoyed, and of course reviews are very welcome! Until next time darlings...**_


	9. When it's Darkest

_**A/N- I am so so so sorry for the extremely long delay. Happy to say I finally had some time and inspiration to write. It's not as long as I would have liked, but its a breakway for more chapters hopefully. Hope you enjoy, and again, sorry for the long hiatus. **_

* * *

"_When it is darkest, men see the stars." – Ralph Waldo Emerson_

* * *

_Blood. _

_Blood was everywhere. _

_The air was filled with its scent. _

_The sun was just beginning to rise, alighting the previously dark field. _

_The battle had been fought, its casualties had been heavy. There had been no winning, only losses, causing an eventual flee of the remaining Death Eaters. _

_The Order members remaining were now faced with the mess. They had to collect the dead, help the injured, and return to headquarters._

_She was one of the remaining, luckily healthy and alive, the only mark of the battle was a small cut on her left arm. _

_Why she had come out so unscathed while others, so much more experienced and trained had not, she did not know. Pure luck apparently. She could not help but admit that it sickened her slightly. Why was she fine, cleaning up, while finer men and women lay on the tall grass, unseeing? _

_She stood surveying the scene, frozen. _

_It had been her first real battle. _

_She had come in so eager, itching to be a part of the real action. But now, seeing all the blood, dead and injured, hearing screams of anguish, it was too much. It was all too much to bear. _

_And yet, she could not leave. She had survived, one of the few out of the dozens that had fought. She owed it to the fallen to stay, to do everything she could to help. _

_A small cry, close to her, broke her frozen state. _

_A girl, she could be no older than her, lay bleeding in the tall green grass. _

_Ginny approached her quickly, squatting near her, examining the dark wound in the girl's stomach. It was bad. She was covered in blood, and was quite pale. _

_Ginny placed gentle fingers on her neck, checking her pulse. It was very faint. Even though she was not a healer, Ginny could tell that there was no hope in saving this girl. A sickening feeling filled her stomach and a lump settled in her throat. _

_Looking upon her face, she could tell the girl was younger than her, no more than fourteen surely. What was such a young girl doing in the battle? No one underage could join the Order! This was not right. _

_The girl's eyes were a warm brown color, eerily similar to Ginny's. This could have been her. But she was alive. This girl in front of her was dying, and scared, tears streaming down her face. _

_She gazed at Ginny, and motioned for her weakly with her hand. Ginny quickly clutched her palm. If she could not save her, at least she would stay with her. She would not die alone._

"_I'm Amelia," The girl said weakly. _

_Ginny swallowed, the lump in her throat aching. "I'm Ginny," she said, attempting to sound calm._

"_I know who you are, I was in Gryffindor too." She coughed weakly and winced. _

"_What are you doing here? You are so young, you can't be in the Order," Ginny asked gently. _

"_I live just down the hill," She gasped, and coughed blood coming out her mouth. Ginny wiped it, and smoothed back the girl's hair. "My brother Tom is in the Order and he rushed to the battle. I- I followed him." _

_Ginny gazed at the girl. As much as a part of her wanted to scold her for her foolishness, she could not help but know she would have done the same without thinking twice. _

_Instead of answering, Ginny softly pushed back the hair from Amelia's eyes. "You're very brave," she finally said. _

_Amelia smiled, and winced slightly. "I've always admired you, you know?" _

_Ginny smiled back, but it was forced. She was no one to be admired. She just had luck. Dumb, undeserved, luck._

_Suddenly Amelia's eyes widened, more tears slipping. "Ginny, I- I can't feel my body. I'm scared," she choked out. _

_Tears threatened to spill, but she was determined not to cry in front of Amelia. She would be strong for her. "Shh… I'm here. I won't leave you," She whispered as soothingly as she could. _

"_What if- what if it's horrible?" Amelia stuttered, wincing. _

"_Death? I'm sure it's much better than here. Than this. It will be peaceful. No wars, no hurt. Just… peace." Ginny said steadily, her voice threatening to yield to the lump in her throat. _

"_That sounds nice." Amelia sighed slowly, as her eyes became unfocused, unseeing. _

_Ginny stifled a sob, and gently closed her eyelids shut. _

_She was gone. Just like that. _

* * *

She woke with a heavy feeling in her chest, and cheeks wet with tears. As she tried to sit up, she felt something restraining her.

Chains?

No, this was soft and warm, yet strong.

She looked down and realized it was an arm. A pale, strong arm.

Draco's arm.

It rushed back to her like a flood. The dungeons. His visit. Their kiss.

After it, he had insisted she was not staying in the dungeons any longer. He brought her to his room, to his bed, and held her all night. They were both dressed, nothing more had happened. She was relieved of that.

She sat up, moving his arm, and he groggily opened his eyes.

"What is it?" He asked sleepily. It was still dark out.

"I- I shouldn't be here Draco. Take me back to the dungeons. Your father will be very angry." She said quietly, a small shudder appearing at the thought of Lucius's reaction.

"My father will agree that you are _my _servant, and I am to do as _I _see fit with you. He will live with his anger."

"But-"

"No." Draco stated. "No more of this. Please Ginevra, go back to sleep."

There was a slight plea at the end of his command. She could not argue further, and she could not help but think that this bed was far more comfortable than anything she had slept in years, possibly ever.

Sighing in agreement, she lay back down on her side, staring out the large windows. The sky was dark, the moon was dim tonight.

"Goodnight Ginevra," He said, placing his arm around her once more. She could not help but feel safe and comforted at the contact.

"Goodnight," she whispered.

* * *

"No. Absolutely not."

"Father you must see reason."

"She is a blood-traitor with valuable information, I am seeing reason." Lucius said, his tone cool, but his eyes blazing with anger.

"Information that no amount of torture is going to make her tell," Draco countered.

"So you just expect me to leave her be?" Lucius sneered.

"No, I expect you to trust me. I have a plan." Draco replied easily, his sharp gaze matching his father's.

Lucius scoffed. "There is no need. Once Snape's potion is ready-"

"Snape's potion will be useless! Don't you see the Order has grown wiser? It prepared its members against every forceful way to get information. It won't work!"

Lucius scowled, "And what makes you think you can get the information out of her?"

"She is beginning to trust me. I believe that soon, she will trust me enough to tell me. I'm sure of it." Draco explained.

"You really think she would be that foolish?"

Draco shrugged. "She is all alone. She has no one to confide in. She is lonely. If I befriend her, gain her trust, she just might."

Lucius raised an eyebrow in thought. After a pregnant pause, he nodded slowly. "Those Weasley's trust easily. They are impulsive fools who act on their feelings. Alright Draco, I agree."

Draco nodded sharply and got up from the armchair he was occupying in his father's study. He walked swiftly back to his rooms, heading straight for the bathroom.

He washed his face in the sink, and raised his eyes to the mirror. He looked at the reflection before him. He looked like himself, but something felt off. He was conflicted.

At first he had only intended to persuade his father, but his plan actually made sense. It could be extremely beneficial for him to retrieve that information.

Yet, could he really do that to the Weasley girl? As much as he hated to admit it, he had grown a sort of soft spot for her.

And their kiss… He couldn't get it out of his mind.

He hadn't felt this confused since… well since his first mission, to kill Dumbledore.

How had she gotten to him so? She had grown like a weed in his mind, consuming each thought. It was maddening.

With a sigh, he turned away from the mirror.

No more thinking.

It was time for some fire whiskey.

* * *

"You're lying."

"I'm not. He agreed."

"You really expect me to believe he just agreed to let me go? Just like that? What do you take me for Malfoy, a complete idiot?"

"You are mine. My servant. My father doesn't have a say in what I do with you."

She laughed hollowly. "Oh please. Your father controls your every move."

He slapped his hand down on the table sharply, and she flinched. He saw he had risen from his seat in his sudden rush of anger. Taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair, Draco sat back down.

"My father does not control my every move," He said slowly, "And you don't get to question my every move. Remember your place."

Her eyes dulled at his words and she stood from her seat. "You're right master, forgive me. If you're done with me I shall return to my duties now." Her voice was lifeless as she bowed and started for the door.

"No Weasley wait! I didn't mean to lose my temper." He said quickly, regretting his last statement.

She turned back around, "Is there anything I can do for you master?" She said in the same dull tone that gave him a shiver down his spine.

He crossed the room, and put his hands on her shoulders, shaking her slightly. "Stop it. Stop using that dead lifeless tone!" He urged.

Her dark eyes looked up at him, void of any emotion. "What tone?"

He shook her harder now, anger rising once again. "That tone! Don't play dumb Weasley it doesn't become you."

"Would you rather I sing?" She drawled, a tone all too familiar too him. His tone.

"Yes!" He said frustrated, "Anything but this."

"Sorry to disappoint you master, I don't know what I'm doing wrong." She turned to leave once more and he grabbed her arm, facing her back to him.

She gasped slightly, and before he could think, his lips were on hers. At first she was frozen, but she melted into the kiss quickly.

Hands on hair, hands on waist, hands everywhere.

And somehow, in the unexplainable frenzy they reached his bed. He pushed her down, not thinking not stopping only wanting-

"Wait," she whimpered, breaking the spell.

He looked down at her unsure eyes and parted lips. What was he doing? Shaking himself, he stood up, no longer trapping her between his body and the bed.

She in turn sat up, looking at her palms. "What are we doing Draco?" She asked softly. As usual the sound of his first name caught him off guard.

He ran a hand through his hair, confusion consuming him as well. "I don't know. I'm sorry." He said and sat beside her.

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Because… I don't know I just wasn't thinking." It sounded stupid. He needed to be in more control.

"Not thinking is dangerous," she whispered.

He nodded and grabbed her hand in his, giving it a squeeze. "I know. I'm sorry, it won't happen again." He got up from the bed, turning to head out of the room. To breathe. To think.

"But I liked it," she admitted, stopping him in his tracks.

He turned to look at her, hair disheveled, lips slightly swollen.

"I liked it too," He admitted, "But it can't happen again. You're a Weasley, I'm a Malfoy. You're a blood traitor, I'm a Death Eater. It just… can't." And with that he turned, leaving the room swiftly. He was afraid another moment too long and it _would_ happen again.

Where was his self-control? It seemed that in her presence, it flew out the window.

* * *

He sat at the edge of the large pond, staring into the murky waters.

The ripple effect the wind created on the water was mesmerizing. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting here, just that the sun was noticeably lower in the sky and the temperature had dropped significantly since he had claimed his seat.

He was cold, but he could not be bothered to leave his spot. It was quiet here. Peaceful and definitely a nice break from the tent. The constant bickering, he couldn't stand it anymore. It was like they thrived from getting on each other's nerves. And he, all he wanted was some quiet.

Harry Potter took a deep shaky breath.

It had been two years. Two long, exhausting years. Their mission, their search, seemed never ending. And all he wanted was to go home.

But where was his home?

His first immediate thought went back to Hogwarts. How he longed for the safety of the castle, the cozy four-poster beds, the warm crackling fires of the Gryffindor common room.

But Hogwarts wasn't home anymore. Hogwarts was not the same place he had once knew and loved. It, like everything else, had been taken over by Voldemort.

Harry tightened his fist at the sudden rush of anger he felt. How he longed for the day that he could finally defeat him. How he loathed him. Two years of his life had now become solely devoted to taking Voldemort down.

Two whole years of his life.

In a normal world he would have finished school. He would have been able to start his life, search for a job, get his own house, and Ginny…

His heart clenched at the thought of her. How he missed her. Her smile, her humor, her spirit. She had such a calming effect on him, so comforting and strong. If only she could be here now, it would have been such bliss. Just five minutes with her, just a five-minute break from reality.

If only he could speak with her.

With a sharp jolt his heart clenched once more. Last they had heard, Ginny was in Azkaban. She was captured. She was imprisoned.

The image of her sitting alone in a cold dank cell broke his heart.

A sudden cool sensation on his cheek alerted him that he was crying. Angrily, he wiped away his tears. He shut his eyes tightly. He couldn't break down. He couldn't. He needed to stay strong. He needed to get his shit together and find those damn horrocruxs and end this bloody war.

The sky was dark now, and there was no visible moon. The stars shone brightly, the only source of light.

Harry got up swiftly, a sudden fierce determination overcoming him.

He entered the tent, both Hermione and Ron's heads snapping up to stare at him.

"We go to the ministry tomorrow."

Hermione's eyes widened, "Harry, it's too dangerous."

"I don't care anymore Hermione. This war has been going on for too long. People have been risking their necks, dying- people we care about! We need to get a move on. We can't just sit on our arses and expect the horrocruxs to fall out of the sky." He spoke fiercely, heatedly.

Ron nodded slowly, "He's right Hermione. We know Umbridge has the locket. It's time for action."

Hermione bit her lip, eyes moving back and fourth between the two of them. "Alright then. Tomorrow?"

Harry nodded sharply. "Tomorrow."

* * *

_**A/N- Once more, I know it's short, I know. But im happy to at least be able to produce something again. Hopefully you enjoyed, and as always, reviews are ever so appreciated! XOXO**_


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